A Girl and A Curse
by dreamerdreamer
Summary: Mary is our Cinderella, who dreams of a life free of her evil step mother's clutches... however, it's not the ending one would expect, but the beginning, for after a horrible turn of events, Mary is on the run and soon encounters a mysterious castle where her story transcends the world of fairy tales and unites them in this surveying epic. A Beauty and the Beast retelling.
1. Chapter 1

I could just barely remember the dream I had the night before. It resembled a dream I had almost every night since I was little girl—after my father died and left me in the care of my step mother. There was a prince in my dream who was being held captive in a towering castle, and he would just call my name. I was always too far away to help him, and I could never remember his face. But I could feel his desperation to be freed. I, too, am familiar with the pain of imprisonment, for after my father died I became my step mother's slave.

The morning began like the thousands before it; as the sun climbed its way into the aurora sky, I was finishing up preparing breakfast for my step mother and two step sisters. After, I had to scrub the three fireplaces in our home—and then the floors. When done, I was to feed the farm animals out back, tend to the garden, and then begin laundry. Between ten and eleven in the morning I would head to the market with a couple of the other servants and sell some vegetables, and buy whatever my step mother had placed on the list she left out for me in the kitchen. She would leave me barely enough money for the items she needed, so it was up to me to get as much money as I could for our vegetables. On the days I fell short, she would say to me in her cold and reserved voice, "That's fine, my dear. I will draw from your saved funds to make the difference. You can try again tomorrow." Now whether or not she actually did this, I had no idea and no way of knowing. I could not touch the money my father left for me until I turned twenty; a little over a year away. But to think of the day I would finally be able to claim my fortune and make my escape only to find my savings depleted made my insides seize with fear. She controlled me this way.

Upon returning from the market a little after noon, I often had to accompany my step sisters—Didi and Anna—on whatever social engagements they entertained in their pursuit of aristocratic status. My step mother was only known by her claim to my late father's fortune—but he was a humble man, and did not spend time making social connections or climbing any sort of ladders. He enjoyed hunting and fishing and studying, and I enjoyed my time with him. Lorna, my step mother, held a great desire for her daughters to ascend into royalty, so every day Didi and Anna had the task of either serving the public for general recognition, or serving the aristocracy to make significant social ties and to find suitable husbands. No one, however, seemed to want to marry either one of them despite their efforts. Concerning my role, I was only with them to act as their servant and put on the illusion that they were noble women. For this, I grew to despise the aristocracy. My heart told me to just leave the very first chance I get, and to never return.

Anyway, after spending the afternoon with Didi and Anna, I would have to return to the kitchen to assist with preparing dinner. Sometimes I would receive an invitation—or demand—to join Lorna and the girls at the table for dinner, while other nights I was positively banned depending upon who was visiting or what was to be discussed over the food. Once all the dishes were done for the day and all the animals were fed, I would finally have time to bathe and relax before doing it all again the next day. Then sleep would come, bringing with it all the same dreams I have every single night. Dreams that, during the day, seemed so insignificant and impossible that I almost resented them, at times.

Old Mia would often be the one who would accompany me to the market every day to do Lorna's bidding. She had worked for my father before he died—and she had known my mother very well, even helped raise her. When I was born, she helped raise me too. When my father passed and Lorna took over, Old Mia's salary was cut in half and her privileges taken away. She only stayed to secretly look after me, for she never had any children of her own. The other servants worked and lived in constant fear of Lorna, who by law owned them and had the power to seize all of their property. She would hold this over their heads to ensure loyalty, and even managed to turn them against me, setting some as her personal spies and others as her disciplinarians. Rarely would she ever lay a hand on me herself—she would have the others handle any manner of beating she felt I deserved. These would mostly result from accidents on my part; I once knocked over a bottle of ink onto Lorna's favorite shawl when she had ordered me to repair the worn stitches within a half hour. My frantic motions resulted in a ruined scarf, and that evening as I finished the dishes I met two servants in the corridor holding a paddle. They wouldn't allow me to pass before walloping my legs ten times. Neither of them said a word, but they didn't need to anyway. Another incident occurred after I had intentionally defied my step mother; she had handed me a broach decorated with fake pearls and diamonds and told me to pass it off at the market as the real thing, gathering at least 5 golden coins for it. I immediately refused. She threatened to take even more money out of my savings account, but my mind was made and I was unrelenting. This time, she smacked me herself—hard, across my left cheek. I was knocked to the ground by the force and frightened. She simply turned and walked away. Later that night, I came to my bed in the loft only to find it covered in cow manure. By the time I had washed and replaced my sheets, the sun was nearly rising again. And this was life as I knew it.

When I was just two years old, right before my mother died, my name was put on a list. This list held all the names of the wealthy little girls in the land of whom, once they got older, would be eligible to marry the King's son and only heir, Stefan. From what I was told all my life, he was only one year older than me and his father refused to accept brides from any other kingdoms. A ball was to take place, one day, where all the girls who were placed on this list would attend and Stefan would have the chance to meet all of them, and pick the ones he liked and go from there. Naturally, my mother wanted me to have a chance with the prince and for a comfortable life, so she made me a dress in her image that I would one day wear to win over the prince's heart. Old Mia told me she spent two weeks putting this dress together and adding the most ordinate of details, stitching it together with love and determination. Once completed, my mother put it away to be preserved until that fateful day would arrive—but after her death and my father's passing, Lorna broke into my chest of personal treasures and hid the dress away from me. I hadn't seen it in almost ten years.

I was weeding the garden in front of the house one quiet morning when the King's courier pulled up in a carriage pulled by proud, muscular horses, brandishing one distinct invitation in his white gloved grasp.

"I am here to deliver this to Lady Mary, only daughter of Sir Frances DeWitt. Is your mistress in?" the man said, standing tall and stately.

I brushed the dirt from my hands onto my apron and smiled meekly, "My mistress is Lorna DeWitt, wife of my late father. It is I who you seek."

The courier eyed me suspiciously, the prospect of a lady covered in dirt and weeding the garden of her own home too far removed from the normality of this life. "Very well then," his tone was indifferent, "with the power invested in me, I extend this invitation to you for an occasion at the castle this Friday, June 15th, for which you will attend in the company of the royal family in your best garments and spirits. A carriage will be sent to bring you there that same evening around sun down. If you do not wish to go, another may be sent in your place, provided they are of good social status and wealth."

I gasped, for I had almost forgotten entirely of this ball, and the chance of even meeting a prince. The courier held the invitation out to me to take, and my heart skipped a beat as I did so. "Thank you," I said in disbelief, "thank you so much! I can't wait!"

The edge of his mouth twitched as if he intended to smile, but instead the courier nodded curtly, mounted his carriage, and took off in a blink of an eye. I was left standing there with the invitation in my hands, speechless with excitement.

A few blissful moments passed before I realized what a challenge this would prove to be; I stuffed the invitation into my apron and out of sight, and rushed inside the house to find Old Mia. Maintaining my usual composure as to not alert the others, I calmly walked into the kitchen where Old Mia was laboring over flattening some dough with a rolling pin, and tugged discreetly at her skirts. She turned to address me, her wizened face taut with exhaustion.

I gave her a meaningful look, and indicated with a flash of my eyes to what was hidden beneath my apron. She glanced down, and then back up at me with curiosity. I turned my head to survey the kitchen; we appeared be alone, so I inched the invitation out from the folds and watched as she took it in her hands, a grin spreading across her face. She looked up at me with pride after she read the fancy print, and took me into her arms for a celebratory embrace.

"This is it," she whispered in my ear, "this is your ticket to freedom."

Her words caused my stomach and throat to tighten, as the feeling of being loved and cared for scratched at my heart in ways that had eluded me for years and years. I squeezed her tightly, "Wherever I go, you go too! I will never leave you here."

"We need to find your mother's dress. I think I know where Lorna keeps it." She said under her breath.

I shook my head, "That's far too dangerous. I can't afford being caught with that thing, as much as I'd love to see it again."

Old Mia took my hands and grasped them tightly as she said, "You leave that to me."

I carried on with my chores that day in the usual manner. At the marketplace, I managed to attain four gold coins with the vegetables I sold, and secretly spent half of one on a simple pair of slippers I was hoping to wear with my dress to the ball. Upon returning home, I stashed away the slippers beneath my bed and turned in the rest of the money to Lorna, who was waiting as usual in her tea room.

"Well?" she asked expectantly, an open book on her lap and her little dog companion at her feet, glaring at me in distrust.

"Three and a half gold coins today, madam," I replied, dropping the little pouch into her waiting hand. She emptied it onto the table beside her and counted them silently. Then she turned to me, "The girls and I expect you to join us for dinner tonight. Wear something presentable, that isn't rags. Have Old Mia take on your chores while you are with us."

I nodded reluctantly and made my exit, wondering what could possibly require my presence. I told one of the servants to distribute my tasks among the others by Lorna's orders, and headed upstairs to wash.

My room was at the top of the house—a fairly large house with at least ten bedrooms, a large dining room, a library, a study, a drawing room, an extensive kitchen, and even a sizable cellar. A creaking staircase led up to my dusty little loft that overlooked the kingdom—I could even see the royal castle in the distance, and the way they lit it up at night always enchanted me. As I entered, I beheld my mother's dress laying on my bed for the first time in ten years. Shutting and bolting the door behind me, I rushed over to it and seized it up into my arms, hoping to take in my mother's familiar scent of lavender and jasmine. The scent had long worn away, but the dress was just as beautiful as I had remembered; a fabric made of lace and satin strung together with little, sparkling jewels and designed to hang of my shoulders in the fashion of true royalty. Without hesitation I ripped off my clothes and slipped into the dress carefully, envisioning how I looked in the finery. I kept a mirror the size of my palm in the drawer of my nightstand, and so I took it off, polished it with my blanket, and gazed into my reflection.

As imagined, the dress fit me perfectly. My mother was wise to fashion it after herself, because I had grown exactly into her young figure. It was an off white color with touches of blue at the trim, and the little jewels twinkled so prettily on it that even without my hair being brushed or done up, I looked more radiant than I ever had before. I admired my reflection for a few fleeting moments before the sound of my step mother's voice from the bottom of the stairs met my ears, bringing me crashing down from my perch in the clouds.

"Mary! There is a mess in the dining hall; go take care of it!" she bellowed.

I slipped out of the dress at the speed of light and stashed it under my bed with the slippers. I rushed downstairs to the dining hall to find a dozen eggs broken in their shells, scattered about the floor. With a deep sigh, I gathered my cleaning supplies and set to work, my mind lingering with my secret upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

I arrived to dinner in the one plain black dress Lorna allowed me to wear for basically any occasion that did not include my chores or market visits. It was shapeless and adorned by nothing; a statement dress meant to suggest my low standing in the house. I didn't care about clothes, however, and as I entered the dining room I couldn't help but laugh a little inside at the dressy show Didi and Anna always put on for such arbitrary occasions; they wore matching floor-length dresses—one in a sea foam green color, the other in a shiny gold. Dyed feathers stuck out of their dresses at random angles and covered their shoulders, wrapping down their sleeves and cuffs. Though my step sisters were twins, they were only alike in their sneering bad attitudes and indulgent lifestyles. Didi was a towering, dark haired girl of seventeen whose smile always seemed painful and forced. Her lips would otherwise stay pinched together as her beady eyes set above her jutting cheekbones constantly picked me apart. Anna had a round face and a full figure, her curly blonde mane was always tangled in ribbons of every color, and she was the more child-like of the two, her demands often turning into fits of screaming and tears. The first time I had met them, I was six. Nothing had changed between us since then, to summarize it all.

"Mary," Anna chirped, "how does your garden grow?"

I ignored the quip and found my usual seat at the far end of the table, opposite Lorna who was flanked on each side by the sisters.

Lorna cleared her throat gratuitously, "Now girls, we have many things to discuss—but first, let's entertain a moment of silent for our lost caregiver, Frances. May he rest in peace."

The three of them closed their eyes and fell silent. Why Lorna chose to honor my father this way after years of abusing me, I could not truly fathom. These moments were always quite uncomfortable.

"Now," she continued, her eyes alight with news, "we are going to have two new dresses made for you, girls, for a very special happening is to occur in just two days!"

My stomach secretly flopped at her words, but any change of expression on my face was disregarded as Didi and Anna clapped their hands in delight, "What is it, mother?" Didi exclaimed.

Just then, one of the servants rolled in a tray of food and began setting the plates on the table.

"A ball!" Lorna gushed in an uncharacteristic way, "a ball just for you! If you attend, you will dance with Prince Stefan!"

Here, Didi groaned audibly, "Mother! I know all about this ball, and it is impossible! The guests have already been chosen, years and years ago! The Duchess Margaret was telling me all about it last week—the rotten woman, knowing fully of my disadvantage!"

Lorna's eyes flashed, "Listen to me," her voice was sharp, "neither of you are at a disadvantage, for we have friends in high places and your presence at the ball is not only welcome, but much anticipated!"

Anna laughed cacaphonously, "Such cunning, mama! Who was it?"

Lorna's smile was devilish, "It was Lord Terrowin, distant cousin of the King's. We've stricken up a deal, of sorts. He's been quite a friend."

Something of that statement made me shudder. And then their eyes fell on me.

"As for you," Lorna quipped, her bony finger cringing in my direction, "you will stay as far away as possible from the castle that evening," she stuffed an olive in her mouth and sucked loudly, her gleaming eyes regarding me with distrust.

Her words made my stomach hot, "If I get an invitation to go to the ball, surely I'm entitled by the law." My words were calm as I tried to sound indifferent. There was no way she could find out about my invitation, my ticket to freedom.

Didi and Anna snickered to each other; I set my eyes determinedly on my step mother.

"You have no business being there," she said curtly, "especially without an invitation." Her eyes regarded me with scrutiny, watching me closely.

I remained expressionless, though my heart was racing.

"I am surprised we haven't received an invitation for her yet," Didi piped in, "what with her father being one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom—maybe they've forgotten about her, since he's gone now."

"Poor Mary!" Anna wailed ironically.

Didi cackled at the joke, and joined in to create a chorus of mockery. I helped myself to some beef and carrots and kept my eyes on my plate as they teased.

"Enough," Lorna barked, "let's not lose sight of what is important here," she turned to the girls, clearing her throat again, "should the Prince dance with you and like what he sees, you will be invited back to the castle for the next ball—only, as a special guest. He can only pick one girl, you know, and surely there will be at least a hundred."

The girls fell silent and wide eyed. Images of them rolling in royal money streamed through my mind offensively. Something told me, in my heart, that they could only reach that status through dishonest means. No prince in his right mind would willingly choose either Didi or Anna to make his bride.

"You will need dresses," Lorna continued, "the best that can be made. By now, I'm sure, Fanta the Dressmaker is probably up to her ears in orders—so I've reached out to Lord Terrowin to put in an order with a dressmaker in his country, and I've heard her tastes run rather extravagantly, but at the height of fashion. She will be arriving tomorrow afternoon to take your measurements. She is quick, and can have them ready almost overnight, which is what we need."

"Oh, mother!" Anna exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement.

"We will need jewels, surely!" Didi said.

"Don't call me Shirley," Lorna replied tightly, "and I've also taken care of that. It's only a matter of reaching into Frances's vault. His first wife had all the jewels a woman could need, and now they sit there untouched and forgotten. We will choose the most beautiful ones and they will be yours to keep, especially after one of you are chosen to be his queen!"

_Those are my jewels by rights. My mother would never have seen you wearing them, _I thought to myself with disgust.

"Do any of these matters involve me, or have I joined you simply for the taste of stew?" I cut in, unable to hide the annoyance from my tone.

"Actually," Lorna began, turning to me with a tight smile, "this involves you entirely, my dear. You'll be taking a little trip this weekend."

I raised my eyebrows, confused, "A trip…? Where could I possibly-"

"To Lord Terrowin's home in the country. He'd like to meet you." Lorna said, cutting into her food with precision, "Before he agrees to marry you, of course."

I reacted faster than I could even process what she had said. I was on my feet, my hands were sweaty and my heart beat hard in my chest, "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Lorna replied coldly, "he's done us a huge favor by connecting us to the monarchy. And he's a lonely man; I believe he's never even married before. So there you go, all the security and wealth you could ever want in repayment for ours—and look at you, you appear so ungrateful."

"I don't even know this man!" I exclaimed, my throat tightening with emotion.

Lorna dropped her fork onto her plate and allowed it to clatter rudely as she also got to her feet, "This is not up for discussion. In fact, it has already happened. I've kept you in this house for over a decade and now I'm giving you the chance for a new life. You owe it to your sisters to impress Lord Terrowin. Don't you dare think of robbing them of the opportunity of a great life."

I simply couldn't believe it. Her voice echoed through my mind painfully, her words growing farther and farther away with every terrible thing she said. I could hardly reply anymore, but I had to fight this, "There must be another way!"

"There isn't," Lorna shrugged, though her posture was still tense, "and I think we'd all be better off if you were just gone. Don't pretend that you love us, I know what you think. What more could I do for you here?"

"I'm nothing to you!" I shouted, my voice breaking, "I've always been nothing! You've been planning on this all along—to just get rid of me, and to be able to keep my father's money and live here like I never was! You've robbed me of everything!" The tears were streaming down my face, hot and fresh. Didi and Anna were uncharacteristically quiet, but they were now miniscule in my mind. All I could feel was total and complete despair.

"You're right," Lorna returned, her voice gradually rising as she stood in my opposition, "you are nothing to me. But my girls are everything and I will do what I can to see them succeed. You will leave here and whatever happens after that is not in my interests. But you will leave, first and foremost, and soon. Until then, I will be watching you closely. If you do anything—_anything_—to get in the way of this, I will make sure you will never have freedom again. Are we clear?"

"Freedom?" I breathed, my voice shaking, "I've never been free. You can't take away something I've never had. You're evil!" I shouted, "Evil!" I pounded the table with my fists; never before in my life had I been this angry, this hurt. I was blinded with anger, and my shouts brought some worried servants into the hall, who threw some nervous glances at Lorna. She gave them a single nod, and two of them wrapped their arms around my body—I was still crying, shaking, trying to catch my breath and I was shouting at her as they pulled me away. I was led up to my staircase and given no choice but to return to my room as they guarded my door. I locked it behind me when I entered and threw myself onto my bed to weep until I fell asleep. The feeling was indescribable; I could've thrown myself out the window in despair at that moment… but I wrapped my arms around my pillow and held on as tight as I could as the moments passed and eventually faded away.

So I slept.


	3. Chapter 3

And I woke again, because this story is not even close to being over.

It wasn't the prince screaming in my dreams this time; I heard someone on the stairs outside my door—they were creaky enough alone, without someone trying to sneak up or down them. No one ever ascended the stairs to my room—Lorna despised the climb, Didi and Anna merely hollered my name to summon me if they needed anything, and the other servants simply pretended I did not exist unless they were under orders to interact with me some way; but the moon was high in the sky as it just happened to be the middle of the night and the sound of whoever it was reached down into the depths of my fitful slumber and pulled me to the surface of my conscience.

I sat up in my bed, the details of my familiar dream melting away, my eyes glued to the door. It was still locked from before.

Quiet as a mouse, I slipped out of bed and tip toed across my room to my door. My ears were ringing with silence as I waited to hear something in apprehension. I stood, motionless, in front of my door. The sound of my heart beating in my ears threatened to give me away. Listening with the…

Utmost…

….concentration…

_Creeek_

Moving like a viper, I unbolted my door and swung it open, hoping to catch whoever was there off guard. Was it my evil stepmother? One of her minions up to something? Lord Terrowin himself here to take me away?

I peered into the dark, and saw no one at all.

"_Are you Mary_?"

I gasped; the voice came from the darkness—a waspy, female voice that sounded, somehow, so far away.

"Who's there?" I whispered back, clutching the door with tension.

"_I've come to help you. Let me in, we haven't much time!_"

I squinted down the stairs, but the moonlight did not illuminate it very far. My heart beat a little harder.

"I can't see who you are. Where are you?" I asked, my voice rising a bit.

"_I am here_!" The voice rang out, an octave higher. Then, a soft green glow emerged from the darkness below and floated up towards me. I took a few steps back as it neared.

She was small, and she had wings. I could just barely see her as she fluttered in front of me—a real fairy, and a most beautiful one!

"Oh, my!" I gasped, because I had only ever seen fairies in my dreams; "Are you real?"

"_I am!" _she trilled_, "Now watch me grow_!"

A brilliant, golden light emitted from her silky wings and dazzled the darkness around her, enveloping her entirely. As soon as she dissolved in the burning illumination, she appeared there right before me, standing tall and looking very human, a wide grin spread across her cheeks.

"Why have you come here?" was all I could ask as she stood smiling before me. She appeared as a beautiful woman—tall, with white hair that fell to the floor and dressed in a blue silk robe.

"I have come to tell you," she began, her voice ringing like a hundred little bells, "that there is a ball tomorrow night. One that you must go to—your destiny _depends_ on it."

"What? How can that be?" I asked her, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid someone would wake up and see this, "I can't go to the ball. My stepmother has forbidden me, and she will make it impossible."

"I will make it possible," she simply replied.

I shook my head, nearly at a loss for words. "You don't understand, I really can't. It's a long story. Please, how do you know who I am?"

"You are Mary, daughter of Loire, are you not?" she asked.

"Why—yes, I am. She died a long time ago. Did you know her?"

The fairy grinned wider, her eyes sparkling, "Mary, let me help you. You have to believe first that you are _destined for great things_. The less I say now, the more you can learn of yourself. Do you want to go to this ball tomorrow night?"

I swallowed, and nodded, my head exploding with questions.

"Then we must get to work. You will need a dress-"

"Oh, I have a dress already!" I exclaimed, running over to my bed and pulling out my mother's dress from below, "She wanted me to wear this in hopes that I would outshine all the other girls at the ball."

"This is a beautiful dress," the fairy remarked, running her ivory hands across the fabric, "but it was your inner beauty your mother intended upon. What's inside of you is your real ticket to freedom. Have you any shoes?"

"Just these," I brandished the slippers I had bought not long ago.

"Those will do nicely! But you will need more than just a gown and shoes. I will provide you safe passage to the ball tomorrow night. You, in turn, must prepare to leave here forever. Once these events are set into motion, they cannot be undone." She explained.

"What do you mean to say?" I asked anxiously, "I have nowhere to go—I haven't a penny to my name! In fact, my step mother has bargained me off to some Lord in the country! I am very sorry, but I'm not entirely convinced that going to this ball is going to change any of that."

The fairy's eyes fell soft and saddened, "Oh, Mary," she sighed, "nothing can happen unless you believe it can."

Her words sunk into the silence, and suddenly I could feel my spirits begin to lift. "Where will I go?"

"That is for you to decide," she replied softly, "but first, you will go to this ball. Wait for me tomorrow—be ready to go by eight in the evening. Can you do this?"

I nodded, my hands clutching my mother's dress tightly. Something inside of me lent me trust towards this stranger, as if her words were real. Her voice was kind and pure, and she gazed at me with certainty. If she had known my mother, surely she was to be trusted, and I was in no position to refuse any offers of help.

"I can do this," I replied, relief and excitement flooding into my heart.

She embraced me joyously, her iridescent wings swishing behind her, "Good," she breathed, "I will see you then."


	4. Chapter 4

Before I knew it, the sun was high up in the sky and I was late to begin my chores.

I rushed down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Lorna and the girls, my hands whirring in front of me in distracted movements.

I was going to the ball that night, and I knew they couldn't stop me. Then I would be free. I didn't know how, but I trusted it would happen, and the idea strengthened me as the despair from the day before was chased away with hope.

When I arrived in Lorna's room with a tray full of breakfast, Didi and Anna were crowding around her, chattering like birds.

"_How can this be_!" Didi whinnied, wringing her hands in distress, "Mama you must do something, and quick!"

"We must have our dresses!" Anna cried, as her and her sister were positively clinging onto Lorna as she attempted to shimmy away from them.

"Girls, girls! Compose yourselves at once!" Lorna snapped, her usual sleek up-do hanging in strands above her shoulders. She was still in her night gown; they all were, but Lorna appeared as if she hadn't slept a wink.

I only intended to deliver their breakfast, as usual, and then make my way immediately back downstairs to begin my chores… but luck was never quite on my side.

Lorna did a double take as I tiptoed my way in, and as the girls squabbled around her, lifted her arm and pointed directly at me, "You!" she exclaimed.

I froze, holding the tray, its weight bearing down on my arms. I regarded her apprehensively.

"There is a dress!" Lorna remarked, "It's in the attic….Has been for years… and I know at least one of you two would fit in it!"

"What dress?" My voice was meek, much less confident than I would have liked.

Lorna scoffed, rolling her eyes, "As if you don't know. Don't play dumb, girl! You had a dress made long, long ago! Expensive fabric."

I shrugged nonchalantly. Didi and Anna peered at me over their mother's shoulder.

"Even if I did," I said calmly, "I own it no longer. In fact, I have no idea where to find it." The lie came easier than I had expected, but I did not like where this was going.

Lorna narrowed her eyes, "Of course you don't know where to find it. But I do. You can go finish your chores now."

My stomach tightened as I turned to leave, my mind racing. It would only be a matter of time now before Lorna found out Old Mia had stolen the dress back for me.

I hurried down to the kitchen to find her, throwing the leftover dishes in the sink. She was in the garden feeding the chickens alone.

"She's going to know!" I blurted frantically, "I don't know what happened, but Lorna's deal with the dressmaker must've fallen through and now she's on the rampage looking for something for Didi and Anna to wear to the ball tonight! She's going to give one of them my dress—or, or rip it in half and have them both try to pull it off, I don't really know-"

Old Mia's face tightened as she suddenly grabbed my wrist, halting my words, "Girl," she said sternly, "this is not the time to be afraid."

I fell silent, subdued for just a moment. "What do you mean?"

She gazed at me solemnly, her grip unrelinquished, "Whatever happens, you must keep your courage. This will be over before you know it."

I shook my head, "Mia, last night a fairy came to me and told me it is my destiny to go to this ball tonight… and I know it sounds, well, _extraordinary_, but I wasn't dreaming. I can feel it in my heart. She said she knew my mother—and-"

"If the fairy came to you, you will go to the ball tonight. Now go fight for what is yours!" She released me, and there I was, running back into the house. Past the other servants, who threw me skeptical glances, and up the stairs to my room in the tower.

I darted up the sunlit steps as light as a rabbit and came upon a dark, towering silhouette looming at the very top. Lorna greeted me with a slap to the face.

"You're a thief." She snarled, stepping over to me in fury. My dress was already in her hands, the fabric stitched together by my mother falling delicately to the floor.

I backed away from her, my face stinging on one side, "I am not going to marry that Lord," I spoke calmly, " I will not do anything you say, and I will be taking my dress back. _Now_."

Lorna threw her head back and cackled, her voice pitched in anger, "You took this from me. I could have you arrested for this! Did you think you could actually get away with this?"

Her words frightened me, but the fairy's words from the night before echoed in my mind and they gave me courage, "Give it back to me."

Lorna shook her head, a look of disgust washed across her face, "You just don't get it, do you? I am going to arrest you. If you try to run away, you will be found."

Didi and Anna's voices sounded from the bottom of the staircase, followed by the clatter of their footsteps.

"Ooh, what a barn!" Didi exclaimed cheerfully as she sashayed through the door, Anna hot on her heels, "Mother, is that my dress you are holding?"

"No mama," Anna whined from behind her, "let _me_ wear it! I can put on a corset and I would be radiant!"

I just honestly didn't know what to say at this point. Lorna drew herself up to her full height and shook my dress out in front of her, examining it closely. "Didi will wear it."

"No!" I screamed.

"Yes!" Didi screamed. She threw me a murderous glance, "Why, you _are_ quite the thief, aren't you, Mary? You wanted to steal my dream! I belong in the royal castle. You belong here, among the cinders of your filthy hearth."

"I am _going_ to that ball. I will _meet_ my prince, and I _will_ be rid of you forever!" I replied, my voice beginning to shake. "It all happens now."

The same two servants who had dragged me up here the previous day appeared at my door, blocking my exit. Lorna's lips twisted into a crooked half smile as she folded her arms, "You aren't going anywhere." She nodded at the two in the doorway, and they made a beeline for me. I had nowhere to go, so they grabbed me immediately. Just as I began to struggle, a cloth was brought to my face, and a powdery substance went up my nose, and my conscience then faded.


	5. Chapter 5

I opened my eyes to a strange world. An old lady was hovering over me, her long white braid tickling my face as she cupped my cheeks in her wrinkled hands. I stared at her for a long moment before realizing it was Old Mia.

"What happened to me?" I asked, wheezing slightly.

"You need to get away from here," she whispered frantically, "this cannot wait another night."

I began to feel my limbs again, and they were sore. I turned my head to look around; I was in my room, and the light shining in through my window was soft. Propped up against the side of my bed, I began to regain all feeling, and fast.

"It is getting late," I said painfully.

"It is twilight. You have been like this all day. They gave you a poison—I don't know what kind," she spoke rapidly but her words were quiet, "I think it's time for you to leave here. I cannot go with you, and that is okay. But try to get up."

I struggled to my feet as the blood rushed to my head and rendered my vision hazy, "I feel ill."

Old Mia wrapped her arms around me tightly, "You will heal. Please, hurry and get ready. No one is watching you now. But they might check up here. The mistress and the girls have already left for the ball—your mother's dress unfortunately did not survive. The girls pulled it apart in jealousy. They had to wear old gowns."

"I can't go to the ball this way," I told her earnestly, my body weak, "they'll see me. Besides, Prince Stefan couldn't fall in love with a girl that looks like me. I have nothing to wear anyway."

"Don't worry about that," Old Mia urged, peering down the stairs with caution.

"The fairy told me I have to be prepared to leave here forever," I told her, "but I'm not as strong as I was last night."

Old Mia shut my door silently, and turned to me, her eyes glistening, "You are stronger than you think. Here, take this." She pushed a folded piece of parchment into my hands, and closed my fingers around it tightly.

"My sister lives a few villages away from here. I have written her a letter," she explained, "that you will be staying with her. No one will find you there. After the ball tonight, you will go there. You will be safe there. It is her address in your hands; you cannot lose it!"

I nodded, clutching the address. "And what about you?"

There was a sudden commotion at the bottom of the stairs; I could hear it clearly—someone, possibly more than one person, climbing up!

"Lock it!" I exclaimed.

"What will that do? The only way is down." Old Mia replied, opening the door and positioning herself in the door way, obscuring my view.

I rushed to be by her side, my body lagging with illness. Whoever was coming up could only mean trouble…

And then the sound of the commotion ceased at once, as if my ears had popped off and tumbled down an endless well. In fact, all sound seemed to warp into nothing and was replaced by a stinging silence. And Old Mia was frozen in the doorway, completely motionless. I halted next to her, confused, and peered down the stairs.

Three servants were posed at the bottom, one clinging onto the rail as if he were about to run up. The other two behind him were statues as well; no sound, no movement—nothing.

"It is time to get ready," a whimsical voice came from behind me. I spun around—and there she was, my fairy, standing tall and regarding me solemnly, her long blonde hair falling down to the floor over her white robes.

"I think time has frozen!" I said, alarmed, "and the others are—were—about to come and poison me again," I could feel my hands shaking with fear.

"It appears you have a friend," she noted, gesturing towards Old Mia.

Tears filled my eyes. "I don't know what they'll do to her, I am so scared."

The fairy nodded, her expression somber. "I can only help _you_, Mary. You must accept that before leaving here."

"But _why_? Surely you can help her escape too!"

The fairy shook her head, "Fairy magic doesn't work that way."

I released the tears from my eyes, my mind racing. How could I leave my only friend? The decision defied my intuition, and it practically set my insides on fire.

"I'll come back for her," I declared, determined.

"I told you before," the fairy replied softly, "once you leave here, you can never come back. That is the way it must be. You must leave this behind in order to move forward. I know your mother would want this for you."

I stared at the ground for a long moment, the silence of time stopped ringing in my ears. After what seemed an eternity of despair, I turned to the motionless Old Mia, who stood guarding the doorway as she had to protect me. "I am so sorry," I whispered to her, "I hope you can forgive me." This was my goodbye, and she would never hear it.

"Now you have another decision to make," the fairy remarked, "as this is part of the deal. Your step mother has poisoned you—don't worry, you will be okay. But she had the intent to harm you dearly. I have redeemed your health, though it may take some time. And she must pay the price for what she did."

I swallowed, for as hurt as I was, I didn't feel ready to make any more decisions. "What must I do?"

The fairy cocked her pretty head at me and stared at me intently, "Someone has poisoned your stepmother's tea. If she comes home and drinks it tonight, she will be dead."

I shook my head, confused, "Dead? But who-"

"You can either let her drink it, or you can save her life. Which do you choose?" The fairy's radiant wings swished nonchalantly behind her.

"I—I don't know," I said slowly, my heart thudding like a hammer in my chest, "How could I save her life after she has tried to take mine away?"

The fairy's eyes seemed to darken, "How indeed."

"I'd rather not know what happens to her. You said once I go to the ball, nothing will be the same. Is that still true?"

"It is," she replied, "but what about your friend's fate? Surely she would be better off with your stepmother dead?" The fairy indicated to Old Mia.

I remembered when I was just seven years old, and I met Lorna for the first time. Her milky white hand emerged from her darkened mourning gowns and took mine gently, her smile was cracked wood. For a fleeting second, all those years ago, I looked to her with the hope that she would fill the hole in my heart that my mother left when she died. Her two daughters, just my age, greeted me with giggles and playfulness. A year later my father died and I was put in the tower, my bedroom given to the girls.

I was nine, just learning how to scrub the stone floors of the kitchen, when Lorna stormed in and kicked my bucket of water over that I had labored to fill up and carry to the kitchen from the well in the garden. I had blisters on my hands and the soapy water rushed over them and all across the floor. "Get out of my way," Lorna had spat, seizing a woman servant by the elbow and accusing her of theft.

I don't know why that memory in particular came to mind, but needless to say it was one of the most difficult moments of my life, accepting the fact that I no longer had a loving family.

Then I looked to Old Mia, and how she stood there, frozen, ready to the shield me from whatever wrath was heading my way.

"There isn't much time here left-" The fairy began, breaking the silence.

"I don't care what happens to her," I interrupted hastily, my mind made, and eager to move on from here, "what will happen, will happen."

The fairy's eyes lit up, "Excellent!" she remarked serenely, "here, take my hand."

As soon as she grabbed my wrist, the world spun faster than I had ever known, and though the sensation was brief, I was out of breath as we reappeared in the sunset garden.

"Ah! A little more space was all we needed," she said cheerfully, striding over to the pumpkin patch and lifting one up into her arms, "And now we can get started."


	6. Chapter 6

"When will time resume?" I asked her.

"Very soon," she assured me, plopping the pumpkin into my arms. I staggered beneath the weight.

"Hold still now!"

Her hands motioned to the pumpkin in a way that suggested it could respond. I peeked curiously at her over the wide gourd. Suddenly, my arms could no longer hold on to it, as it began to grow up and out—

Two pairs of wheels emerged from the bottom of the growing pumpkin as it miraculously swelled, bigger and bigger. A door carved itself out of the shiny gold side, accompanied by windows and lavish decorations. It was becoming a full sized, golden carriage.

Then, the fairy turned to me. "Still needing a dress?"

I nodded, speechless, images of my mother's perfect dress destroyed looming in the back of my mind.

"We will make do with what we have," my fairy said lightly, indicating to the rose bushes in the corner of the garden. She flashed me a smile, and summoned one of the roses to her opened grasp. It instantly obeyed her. I watched in awe as she twirled the rose in her fingers, and it began to glimmer.

"Catch," she said, tossing it to me. I caught the rose and I felt a change overcome me, as if I were the pumpkin that had just become a carriage.

My usual outfit of rags began to transform into something else—something red. My apron stretched to the ground and grew into a glamorous ball gown that trailed far behind me in the grass, winding up my body and wrapping itself around my shoulders. It was a dress made from a rose, and just as soft and stunning in color. Diamonds emerged from the folds of the bodice and glittered in the dim twilight, and a train hung from my shoulders, accompanied by a hood that fell onto my back. My arms were left bare, as the dress cut off at my shoulders and fell impossibly long. I suddenly felt like royalty.

"And how about some shoes?" The fairy asked, striding over to one of the kitchen windows and whacking it out with a wand she conjured from her robe. The glass shattered all over the ground with a deafening clatter, as the rest of the world was still motionless. She picked up two large shards and waved her wand over them—and they became slippers, to my greatest surprise.

She came back to my side, brandishing them proudly, "Try them on."

Taking her arm for support, I stepped into the cool glass slippers and found they fit perfectly. "Thank you," I managed to say.

"Don't thank me yet," was all she said, pulling a small dark sack from her robes. She gazed at it for a long moment before looking again to me. "These will help you later. I cannot say how. They are enchanted mushrooms. When you are lost for answers, you can eat these in a time of need. Please keep them safe, for they will be all I have left to give to you."

I took the light sack from her and slipped it into a discreet pocket hidden within the folds of my dress, where the address Old Mia had gifted me was snuggled safely.

"You look like a princess," she said, stepping back and surveying her work with satisfaction. I beamed at her as my spirits began to lift.

"All that's left now is your entourage. Let's set these tired farm animals free." She opened the stable door and disappeared inside, emerging moments later with a goose in her arms. He squawked uncomfortably as she set him down onto the grass before us and waved her wand again.

I watched him sky rocket up, his wings outstretched in surprise. They turned into arms adorned with a fine jacket, and the rest of the goose suddenly became a man, dressed like a rich woman's coachman. The new man stood, swaying slightly, and cleared his throat.

"At- at your service," he stuttered, bowing to me.

"Very good, Goose," the fairy said serenely, "you are human now, so after tonight you may do as you please. Do you think you can drive this carriage?" She pointed to the golden carriage sitting in the garden.

He nodded, his face a blank, bewildered slate.

"Excellent," she remarked, disappearing back into the stable and reappearing with two horses. I helped the fairy and Sir Goose fasten them to the carriage. After, the beautiful fairy turned to me.

"Mary," she breathed, "now is the time for _you_ to be free. You are dressed and have free passage to the ball tonight. Don't forget about the mushrooms I gave you. And remember—you can never return here again, for if you try, your destiny will be gravely compromised. Do you understand?"

"I do," I said, "Will I ever see you again?"

The fairy laughed, her eyes glittering, "Hopefully you will never need to! Now, the carriage will have to turn back into a pumpkin by dawn, otherwise it will rot. Sir Goose will remain human. These horses can be sold for a decent amount of coin. If you encounter your step mother or sisters at the ball, do not share with them what I told you tonight. Your step mother's fate has been sealed already. Now, you must get to the ball! The clock is again ticking!"

She helped me into the carriage and kissed my cheek goodbye, "Your mother is with you tonight."

With the sound of bells, the fairy vanished. Sir Goose climbed up onto the front of the carriage and took the reins in his new hands. I could hear a commotion inside the house from my seat in the carriage as time resumed and the normal sounds of the twilight lit world filled my ears.

"Off we go!" I said to Sir Goose, who in turn set the horses in motion and the carriage took off, out of the garden and down the path to the village, moving fast.

My heart raced with the carriage as we flew over the cobble-stoned streets of the town. Past all the familiar little shops, homes, and gardens, and past all those who wandered, uninvited to the ball themselves. I peered from the window at the darkened pathways and, for the first time, tasted freedom.

"M'lady," Sir Goose called to me from the front of the carriage, "can you see it?"

I stuck my head out of the window and looked forward; we were approaching the castle. It sat on top of a hill that overlooked the village and the entire kingdom—and it was lit up in a celebration, illuminating the night sky romantically. I couldn't prevent a grin from spreading across my face, "I see it."


	7. Chapter 7

My dress trailed far and red behind me. The moon was clear and bright, illuminating the few shadows of the castle with pearl. I climbed the main steps to the entrance, making my way past intoxicated party goers and chattering groups of splendidly dressed nobles, ascending towards the enchanting glow of the ball and the soft music that accompanied it.

The guards at the door regarded me warmly, asking for my name in order to announce my entrance. I blushed and hastily declined, before turning my gaze to the inside of the palace's large, decorated hall that dazzled with lights, gowns, and finery of every manner. I involuntarily gasped- never before had I beheld such a sight. There was an entire floor full of dancing guests buzzing with excitement.

I picked up my dress, and decided to join.

"Glass of wine?" A finely dressed palace worker offered a tray of refreshments.

"Oh, no thank you-" I began to reply, when suddenly I caught a glimpse of Didi an Anna through the crowd. They weren't far from where I was standing, but they weren't looking at me either. I could see the girls twirling around with each other, laughing with mouthfuls of food and wine.

_Where is Lorna?_

I did not see her with them, but I didn't want to be spotted, so I ducked into the crowd of guests and wound my way through them, to the back of the hall near the band of violinists. As I traveled, I gained many second glances and curios looks. No one knew me, so it was understandable that I stood out.

But I was just happy to be there.

As I mused around the hall, I passed a mirror on the wall. I stopped to peer at myself momentarily. The fairy had cleaned me up well; I didn't look sick as I had felt earlier, waking up from the poison. My cheeks were rosy with energy and my hair fell in heavy curls around my shoulders and down my back. I hadn't brushed it, so I knew that was magic. The dress was as gorgeous as I had thought, but equally frightening. How could I not stand out while wearing this rosy red spectacle? Diamonds glittered from the bodice and the velvety texture represented me as a girl far wealthier than I could ever be. Embarrassed, I hastily moved forward, away from the mirror, and wandered over to a vast table full of food—the most beautiful, exotic, and delicious smelling dishes I had ever beheld. My stomach felt hallow, so I helped myself to a bowl of strawberries.

"Excuse me," a feminine voice came from behind me. Startled, I swiftly set the strawberries down, turning apprehensively. A girl who appeared to be the same age as me stood before me, her pink dress glittering in the light of the many chandeliers overhead. "Are those slippers made of glass?"

I had forgotten about my glass slippers. I lifted my dress a bit just to double check, then I nodded sheepishly.

She smiled to me, her expression joyous, "They're marvelous," she gushed, "and so unique. I've never seen any like those before. I'm Tamsin."

"Oh," I said, taken aback, "thank you very much! My name's Mary."

She tilted her head, staring at me for a second. "Have we met before?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so. It's my first time here, anyway." Then it struck me, as I quickly studied her face; I had definitely seen her before—on one of Didi and Anna's social outings. Tamsin had been a part of a group of girls they once had tea with. I was there to carry my step sisters' findings at the market. Her and I had never spoken, at least. I could feel the nervous heat rising to my cheeks, but Tamsin took no notice.

"Isn't this place incredible?" she asked, clapping her hands together, "I even got to dance once with the prince!"

My heart skipped a beat. I had forgotten the reason I came! "Prince Stefan?" I asked, "how do you meet him?"

She laughed, "Everyone gets to meet him tonight. I think he's in the garden now, actually. It _is_ quite warm in here." Tamsin fanned herself dramatically.

"What was he like?" I asked eagerly, "Was he fair and just?"

Tamsin took me by the arm and steered me through the crowd, "I can hardly say, I think he's quite overwhelmed with all this going on. How can he expect to pick his princess in one night? Besides, there are probably only a few girls here truly hoping to marry him. I myself have a dowry in place for the son of Lord Cartwright. We're the same age."

"Well, that's nice," I said awkwardly, unsure of whether it was or wasn't. Had my father lived, surely I would've had a dowry of my own, and matched off to a wealthy family. That reality had been taken away from me long before I could even consider it. But how could I have been happy when that future offered no freedom?

"Are you hoping to meet the prince?" She asked me.

"It was my mother's intention that I would, before she died," I admitted out loud, "but I don't know—something just doesn't feel right."

"I don't blame you for feeling that," she sighed, "Those hoping to fall in love on first sight are delusional. It just really doesn't work that way."

She led me out of the golden hall and through tall doorways decorated with stained glass into the posh courtyard, where the air was fresh and the shadows long and flickering. The music from inside wafted out with the breeze and danced across the full moon's light.

"There's even a hedge maze out here," Tamsin gushed, "I wish I could visit every day."

I gazed around at the vast garden, wide eyed. There were many few guests socializing outside, but the wine was flowing just the same and the sound of laughter was constant. A joker weaved his way through the circles of groups, doing flips and contortions with fire, the bells on his hat ringing. "I've never seen one of those before!" I gasped.

Tamsin offered me a dubious glance, "You mean a fool?"

We traversed over to a bubbling fountain, with an edge like a bench so one could sit and enjoy the water if they chose.

"If you'll excuse me," she murmured, "I hope we will talk again." Tamsin tip toed over to a group of drinking guests and joined in on their gossip, so I began to admire the grandeur of the fountain, contemplating on what to do next.

I accepted a glass of wine—my first glass of wine ever—from one of the palace workers, and took a large gulp. It was probably quite rich, but also very delicious. That was when I heard Lorna's voice.

There was a cacophonous cackle, "Why should I give her to you, after you fell through with our deal? My girls are wearing recycled fabric that was thrown together in one day to look presentable for tonight, and the prince hasn't even glanced their way. This is your fault!"

Her voice was far enough away to where I knew she couldn't notice me, but a very cold sensation of paralysis swarmed my spine, and I stood, as still as a statue, clutching my wine glass and listening intently.

A man's voice followed, "Your priorities are confused," he replied smoothly, "the girl is mine because I have paid off your debts and erased the skeletons from your closet, including your late husband's. I don't truly give a damn what kind of fabric your daughters are wearing tonight, I want only what is mine and by that I mean by law. She is legally now my ward and I will be claiming her tomorrow day."

Lorna scoffed, "If I don't turn her into the king's police first! I have evidence that she is a thief-"

"Don't test me, Lady DeWitt," the man's voice was aggressive. I knew it had to be Lord Terrowin, the man she planned to sell me off to. The man who needed a wife.

Slowly, as if time were still standing still, I turned my head to carefully peer over my shoulder. Lorna was not facing me; I could see the exaggerated volume of the back of her dress trailing through the grass, snaking around the darkened grass like a shimmering blue serpent. Lord Terrowin stood opposite her, a tall thin man of maybe fifty. He leaned on a cane, but otherwise looked healthy. His face, though, was not that of a happy man's. The shadow beneath his eyes seemed to fall over his smile. I quickly looked away as his eyes scanned the courtyard. They continued to bicker, and I realized with fear that I needed to go unseen now more than ever.

I followed the shadows of the courtyard into the garden, where the hedges loomed high and thick. I took another gulp of wine to soothe my nerves, and wandered down a lone path lined with rose bushes. Tip toeing, quiet as a mouse, putting as much distance as I could think between me and Lorna, I continued on into the heart of the beautiful and vast garden, the music from the party fading behind me. All the way back here, fireflies began to light the path. I plucked one of the roses from a bush and took in its scent. That's when I heard a crunch of pebbles, and my heart spasmed wildly in my chest as I spun, expecting to see Lorna's cruel face leering before me.

There was a boy. He looked just as surprised as I was.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, "I didn't know anyone else was back here."

"Oh—no, it's fine. I startle easy," I assured him, clutching the rose still tightly. He was posed before me, hesitant. Unsure, I began to turn from him.

"Wait," he said suddenly, "are you going deeper into the garden? You'll get lost by yourself back there. Trust me, it's a labyrinth."

I regarded him curiously; he was dressed in all white, embroidered with gold. His hair was brush neatly back behind his ears, and his face was handsome and kind.

"I was actually-" here, I took a deep breath, "I was actually trying to avoid someone back there."

"Oh?" he asked, "what a coincidence. So was I."

A strange moment of silence passed between us.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I glanced around quickly, making sure there was no one lurking in the shadows. "My name's Mary," I whispered, "what's yours?"

"Stefan."

I nearly choked on my wine, "As in, the prince of this castle?"

He sighed, "Yes. Maybe we could forget about that part." His gaze fell to the ground.

"Of course we can," I said.

"Good," he briskly replied, "so maybe if we share a problem, we can remedy it together too. Will you do me the honor of joining me for a walk? I've had quite enough dancing for tonight."

It was the prince who took my arm this time, and under the moonlight led me on.


	8. Chapter 8

_It was the prince who took my arm this time, and under the moonlight led me on._

"Why don't you want to be with the others?" I asked as we traversed the hidden pathway.

Stefan sighed, looking straight ahead, seemingly into the distance. "I don't know," he lightly replied, "it's just hard to breathe in there, I guess. May I have some of that, by the way?" he indicated to my wine.

"Sure," I handed it to him with a shrug. Stefan took a deep gulp.

"Ah," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "I haven't had anything to drink all evening. Can you believe it?" He shook his head.

I said nothing, for his world was so different from mine.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "I don't mean to come off as awful. I just—I'd rather be far away from that place. Girls I don't know, tugging at me, their mothers whispering in my ear, lords handing me off gifts I don't need in trade for favors I cannot give. And none of these people even know me-" His voice trailed off.

"They don't know me either," I took a turn on the wine, "however, no one really cares, in my case."

He looked sideways at me, "I envy you."

"No need," I replied with an ironic smile, "just enjoy the night for what it is. Have you ever seen the moon so beautiful?"

He looked up, and stared at it for a long time. "I see beautiful things every day."

I laughed, "Then it is I who envies _you_."

We walked in silence for a bit, passing a fountain that bubbled happily, its ripples glinting in torch light.

"So," he began briskly, "who are you hiding from then?"

I hesitated, unsure of what to say, and suddenly fearful that we could be found.

"I have come tonight because my late mother wished it." I said quietly, "So far, it has been the most spectacular thing I have ever seen. Truly, I am speechless of the beauty your home offers. But I am very glad to have met you, despite the circumstances."

He furrowed his brow, "So cryptic, you are. I don't mind, but I would like to thank you for helping me. Without a companion to walk with, I would surely have been _back there_, enduring more needless doting from a thousand faceless strangers."

"You have to turn back some time," I told him.

"So do you."

At this point, a startling rumble of thunder echoed down the garden path and rushed passed us, towards the ball itself.

I looked to Stefan, "We may not have a choice, now." And then the rain began to fall.

"There is shelter close," he said, steering me down a different path, past tall hedges that concealed the castle's view.

We walked briskly, as the rain was cold and it fell in plump drops, splashing against the pathway with audible splats. As we rounded a corner, we came upon a quaint gazebo lit by candles under its sheltering roof. The sides were open to the weather, but it was mostly dry, and there sat a marble bench in the center—perfect for waiting.

"Shouldn't be too long now," said the prince as we stepped onto the gazebo, shaking the rain droplets from his hair. I peered down at my dress; the water rolled off of it easily, as the rose material was a natural resistance. My dampened skin, however, submitted to goose bumps, and I gave a tiny shiver.

"This is not what I pictured this night to be," I remarked with a laugh, taking a seat on the bench and freeing my own hair loose of rain.

Prince Stefan removed his outer jacket and handed it to me, "Here, please don't catch ill on my account."

I happy obliged him, slipping my arms inside with a smile, "Thank you. Now I _really_ feel like royalty."

"Do you?" He asked, amused, folding his arms and leaning against one of the conduits, "Tell me what it's like."

I closed my eyes, trying to picture my life as it had never been. "First, I wake up in a feather bed. Eggs and sausages wait to be eaten on a rolling tray beside me, along with some hot tea. Then, I perform my royal duties and go for a walk in this marvelous garden, picking flowers for all my favorite people. After, I peruse the village in disguise, giving bags full of coins to the unfortunates I see. Satisfied with my societal contribution, I go and have tea in my library, where thousands of books are ready to be read by me. I end my day with a ride on a horse, through the castle itself! The horse drops me off in my wonderful feather bed and I go to sleep immediately. Is that how it is?"

The prince was laughing, holding his sides. "It's really quite spot on," he managed to say, "except you left out the part where everything is grey and boring and you can't actually go anywhere!"

"Where do you wish to go?" I asked him, taking another sweet sip from the wine.

He thought for a moment, "Well, there's this island my father used to retreat to before he became king. He describes it as the most extraordinary place in the world—a paradise, only its enchanted. He won't share its location with anyone, but keeps it secret. You can only get there by map. I think, if I went there, I wouldn't return."

A long, silent moment passed.

"Where would you like to go?" He finally asked, as the rain continued to fall. My mind wandered to the address I hid; that of Old Mia's sister. That was the only place I knew to go.

I stood and wandered over to where Stefan was poised, leaning against the railing, the rain falling at his back. I reached out into the downfall and watched the droplets splash across my palm. "I could go anywhere," I said after some thought, "as long as I'm happy where I am."

"I think I could be happy anywhere but here! " Stefan remarked, reaching out into the rain to catch the droplets that fell from my hand. "You know, this is beautiful but it's just not what I want. I'd be happy to give the kingdom to my younger brother. He's a baby, so they'd have plenty of time to prepare him to rule."

I tilted my head at him, "It sounds like you're very sure of what you want. I know how you feel, and my advice is to absolutely follow your heart."

He smiled briefly, "I was not born with that option. It simply cannot be."

Sadness filled my heart. I wanted to argue with him, to tell him he was wrong and that magic is real and that he can make his dreams come true…

But I had made the decision already to move on from here, and to do it quickly. I withdrew my hand.

"It was nice meeting you," I said, abandoning my mother's dream of becoming a princess, "I must be leaving now." My mind wandered over to the courtyard where I had last seen Lorna with Lord Terrowin. The more time I spent here, the more likely a chance I would have to face her again. And this was my escape.

"Wait," he said with a laugh, reaching out to me, "I'm sorry I kidnapped you and have trapped you here in this weather, but surely you should wait until the rain stops?"

I thought it over for a moment. "Your highness," I said to him, "we don't really know each other, but trust me when I say anything is possible. Your woes are of your own creation—I fully believe if you step away from this life, you can just as easily step into another. Who will make that happen, but you?"

He gazed at me, seemingly unsure of what to say. As our eyes met, I noticed that his eyes were hazel. He dressed so properly, and looked every bit a prince—yet inside, he felt different, alone. He reminded me so much of the prince I dreamt about constantly, but his eyes didn't match. Something wasn't there; I couldn't say what.

"Tell me more about yourself," he said, folding his arms.

"What would you like to know?"

His eyes studied my face. "Everything."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and felt my cheeks warm with alarm. In truth, there was nothing I wished to share, though I was beginning to enjoy his company.

"Maybe first _you_ could tell me about me," I suggested coyly.

He laughed, "Where to begin? Your name is Belle. Your father is a wealthy inventor and you love to read books. You crash parties every week just for the thrill. You have tons of friends, young and old, and you spend your summers by the sea."

"I do love to read," I agreed, "though I assure you, I have never been to the sea, nor did I crash this party! I just lost my invitation in a whirlwind of complicated matters…" I paused, "Why Belle?"

He picked the rose that I had been holding onto for ages from my hand and twirled it in his fingers, "Haven't you ever heard of that saying, 'Belle of the ball'?" He looked around, "Between you and me, you're it."

It was my turn to laugh, "Honestly, I've never felt so grand. I can only image feeling like this every day. Stop flattering me, by the way. When the rain stops, I'll have to be on my way."

"Is someone waiting for you?" he asked, a mild shadow of concern passing over his face.

I shook my head, "No, as I said, no one here knows me."

"Except those whom you are hiding from."

"We do seem to have that in common," I shot back.

"Touche!" he exclaimed, "Do you think when the rain stops, you could accompany me to the castle for one final dance? I want to feel like I've accomplished something tonight."

I bit my lip.

"I swear I won't keep you here any longer." He promised, hand on his heart.

"Well, you're in luck," I couldn't help but smile, "the rain has stopped already. As long as it's only one dance."

He tilted his head, and regarded me curiously. Tucking the rose into his jacket pocket that I still wore, he offered me his arm again and we set out, back onto the wet, darkened path towards the castle. I slipped out of his coat as we traversed up the path, and decided to raise my hood. I set it gently halfway up my head so I was partially concealed, as if no one would get a good look at my face inside.

The fireflies dancing along the walkway paled to the lit chandeliers of the palace as we met the deserted courtyard stairs. The grand doors were still open, and music and heat poured from the inside of the ballroom, the windows slightly steamy from the weather. Inside, there appeared to be much less guests than before, but the air remained fresh with excitement.

Heads turned as the prince and I entered, arm in arm. I felt like I could faint, being looked at by so many people with my heart beating so wildly in my chest with fear. I was a master at maintaining composure, in any case. As we made our way through the crowd of guests, there was a general hush from those we passed by. I knew I was perplexing to them; who was I? Where did I come from? But we reached the floor, and Stefan beamed at me. "Shall we?" he held out his hand.

I took it, and then we danced. The faces around us melted into a blur of colors and lights as we danced and laughed together. Stefan wasn't formal in his manner. He was creative and fun and charming. I couldn't understand how he could ever have trouble being happy and ruling a kingdom. Outwardly, he was everything a prince should be.

I don't know how much time passed, but eventually something in my heart told me it was time I should go. I imagined Sir Goose waiting for me in by the pumpkin carriage, awaiting his own newfound freedom.

"Let me grab us some drinks," he said quickly, after the song ended. He darted away through the crowd before I could reply. As soon as he vanished, I felt a bony grip seize my shoulder. I gasped as a hand pulled back on my hood, yanking it with sloppy aggression. "You!" a high pitched voice snarled, "I knew it!" I was face to face then with Didi. She was red faced, her eyes bulging and her teeth barred.

I backed away from her, falling fast into panic.

"How did you get here!" She demanded loudly, her hands in fists. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The guests standing around us turned to stare. Anna appeared next to Didi, eyes alight with excitement. "Mother!" she howled, "Mother come over here at once!"

Terrowin, you know. Mother signed the papers this morning. You belong to him by law—that creepy hunter man- and if you run you will be arrested!"

"Or maybe he'll hunt you down himself!" Anna chimed in.

"I am not a slave!" I said through clenched teeth, "I am my father's daughter. _Not_ a ward!"

There were gasps heard around us; the girls were causing a scene. The familiar tall, thin man leaning slightly on a cane stepped out of the crowd, his face wrought with intense interest. "So you're the girl," he remarked aloud, his voice icy.

I regarded him with surprising confidence, drawing back nevertheless. Then Prince Stefan was suddenly there, inserting himself between me and the others.

"Back away from her," he said sharply, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Your Highness!" a voice I never wanted to hear again came from behind me, and in horror I perceived Lorna, striding up with her cracked wood grin. She was brandishing some papers in her hand, and with her other she grabbed me savagely by the arm, her nails digging into my skin. "This girl is breaking the law. I demand her arrest."

"This is my ward, and I'm claiming her," Lord Terrowin pressed, staring Lorna down with detest.

"I am Mary DeWitt, daughter of Sir Francis DeWitt and the Lady Loire! You have no claim upon me! I am not a servant!" I yanked myself away from Lorna, "And neither do you. You are not my mother. You are a criminal!"

"What is going on here?" Stefan interjected, looking to me.

I shook my head. "I have to go now," I said to him. It would be my last chance, the last way out. If I chose not to run then my fate would be changed entirely.

The clock struck midnight, its echoes ringing through the hall and chiming over the music that had grown soft due to the tension in the room. I turned and ran.

Out of the ballroom I fled, past the confused guards and guests and away from Stefan's calls. I think he tried to come after me, but I was determined to lose him and get as far away as possible. I flew down the palace steps to the carriage path where Sir Goose waited, and it began to rain again.

"We have to go now!" I urged him, "Please hurry!"

I climbed into the carriage and hastily shut the door. Sir Goose got the horses moving immediately, and in no time we were racing down the street away from the palace, and away from the village as well. I looked out the back of the carriage, and realized we were not being followed. We were getting away. I sat back in the seat, relieved and exhausted, and only then realized that I was missing one of my glass slippers.


	9. Chapter 9

We rode through the rain for a long time. I didn't know how Sir Goose could see the road, but I knew the fairy had told him where to go. I shivered inside the dampened carriage with a racing heart. What had I left behind? And what was now ahead?

I could hear lightning strike as the wind howled.

"Are you okay, out there?" I called to Sir Goose, my head peeking out the window.

"Just fine, Miss Mary!" he replied over the wind. I sat back, and we rode on.

I didn't know what was to become of Sir Goose now that he was a human. I assumed that he would begin to make his way in the world, just as I was, after our depart. My mind travelled back to the castle, where I had seen Lorna for the last time. According to the fairy, she was a dead woman. I decided then to make peace with her in my heart and to never think about her again. And then there was Stefan, the nicest—and only—prince I had ever met. I knew now that we could never be friends, but what a beautiful evening it had been. It gave me hope.

Among my thoughts and the chaos that ensued outside, suddenly I heard the cry of a wolf. I again stuck my head out of the carriage.

"Sir Goose! Did you hear that?"

"I did m'lady!"

"Be most cautious!" I warned. If the horses became frightened, I couldn't guess what was to become of us. How large was this forest we were in? How long until the next village?

It felt like another half hour passed before I heard the howling again. Perhaps it was a full moon, impossible to see beneath the storm. Or perhaps we were being hunted.

To my surprise, the carriage lurched to a stop. I immediately opened the door and climbed out, barefoot, into the rain. I beheld the darkened forest around us and the drowned path before us as I came around to the front, where Sir Goose was slumped forward onto his knees, his face concealed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed. I peered up at him in panic.

"I can feel myself changing again!" Sir Goose looked down to me, eyes bleary, his face covered in feathers. I gasped, stepping back.

"But the fairy said you would be human now!" I said in disbelief.

He opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment his nose suddenly protruded and his mouth met with it as they transformed into a beak. A strangled quack was all that was heard.

"How can this be!" I cried, pulling myself up onto the coach seat. I reached for Sir Goose's hand, trying to think of anything I could do to reverse the magic, but he was already too far gone. His arms began waving wildly as they transformed into wings, and his legs shrunk in size as webbed feet protruded from his boots. His squawking revealed his fear; he had not voluntarily returned to his original form, but soon enough he was once again all goose and no man.

Soon after, despite my desperate pleas, he flew away.

There was nothing left for me to do but to continue on. I seized the reigns of the carriage and eased the horses on, slowly and steadily, down the crooked, flooded path. I could see the water rising above the horses' ankles as they trotted through the mess. And I could still hear the wolves in the distance, but I sensed they were coming closer. There was no going any faster.

I halted the carriage once more and climbed back down. With shaking fingers, I detached the horses. They neighed nervously as they stepped away from the carriage, unsure of where they were supposed to go.

_I've lost my way._

Recalling what little knowledge I had from riding a horse in my youth, I climbed atop the old steed my father had favored so long ago. He had named him Luc. The other horse I did not know very well, it was new to our stable. I let him go.

"Ride, Luc! It is just us now!"

The horse took off down the path, sloshing through icy water. I held onto his neck as securely as possible, my big red hood falling back behind me and my hair soaked from the rain. The trek was becoming more and more winding, the water deepening and obscuring the path. Luc trotted on carefully, but he was not a skilled horse and was no way equipped for handling the severe terrain.

Up ahead I spied a fallen tree limb blocking the road. If Luc could jump over it, I could take it as a sign of luck. I braced for the jump as we came upon it, and just as soon as the horse kicked his front heels into the air and we went up, the wolf's howling sounded again. This time, closer than ever.

Luc was startled. His back legs fell short of the clearance and he stumbled, tossing me from his back. I tumbled hard into the gnarled and soaked vegetation lining the path.

I must have even blacked out for a moment, because once I was able to stand, the horse was gone. I could feel something warm run down the side of my face. I hastily wiped the blood away and ran my finger gently across my right temple, where the skin had broken. I knew head wounds bled out a lot, and that I would probably be okay, but for how long? I needed to move my legs. The wolves were coming.

I stumbled down the rocky path, legs moving as fast as they could. I knew my head continued to bleed, and that eventually I would pass out if I did not soon rest.

_Do not stop now._

On and on I pressed, winding deeper into the cold, dark forest that seemed to lead nowhere. It wasn't much longer before I spied my hunter. It must have been the alpha wolf; he was crouched ahead of me on the path, eyes glowing golden and sinister, teeth bared with hunger. I veered off the path, now running for my life. The wolf did not immediately follow.

It didn't matter to me that I was lost anymore. If I made it to dawn, I could continue on with the sun above me and a better sense of direction. I pondered if climbing up a tree would ensure me safety through the night. How could I be sure of that?

The sound of several wolves howling together in the near distance reinvigorated the sense of fear and panic inside of me. The pack was now all together and close by, and my time was running out.

My vision began to fade in and out. It wasn't severe, but just enough to deter me moments at a time. Somewhere in my fits of blindness, I stumbled upon a wrought iron gate. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. It was the largest gate I had ever seen, and it was slightly ajar. And behind it was a castle. Not like Stefan's castle—but a black castle, treacherous and huge.

There was no time to negotiate. I slipped through the gate and onto the mysterious grounds, following the cobblestoned path to a set of stone stairs that led to a doorway.

The castle loomed above me, stretching up into the blackened sky, its true height obscured by the storm. It was a strong castle built of stone; weathered stone twisting into towers upon towers. I could only see one door; the front door. A little too obvious, it seemed, but as the gates had already allowed me entrance and I knew the wolves were hot on my heels still my best chance seemed to lie behind those two giant doors made of hardened oak. So I knocked.

My feeble touch offered no feedback. My knuckles were already cracked and bloody from my earlier skirmishes, and my head wound—if only I could see it—left me dizzier with every passing moment. I knocked again, this time with my other hand. It made but little impact upon the sturdy door.

Just then, I heard the cry of a wolf in the near distance, followed by an echo of calls from the rest of the pack. My stomach overturned inside of me as I began pounding on the door frantically, hoping someone—anyone—would answer and allow me entrance. But the storm was too loud. It was practically roaring, and lightning flashed in the distance followed by thunder that nearly shook the ground. Even as I stood there, my hands resting against the door in uncertainty, my vision grew fuzzy. What was to become of me if I was left out here?

There it was—another distinct call of the alpha wolf. He was so near I could almost feel his presence, and his hunger. In a panicked state I tore myself away from the door and stumbled back down the stairs and onto the flooded path. Ice cold water reached my ankles now, so I had to take extra care to not stumble onto any loose rocks or foliage, as this yard was overgrown and unkempt; the gate itself was laid heavily with vines stretching from the ground and twisting through the iron bars. As I took hold of the side that had opened in order to again close it and secure it against the wolves, the alpha appeared out of the trees, his eyes gleaming. The gate was incredibly heavy as I threw my weight against it, bringing it to a close with a shuddering creaking noise. The alpha let out a guttural snarl as he met me on the other side, jaws snapping through the bars, trying desperately for the taste of flesh.

The wolf was heavier than me, and now it was his weight against mine. I kicked at him and screamed with the hopes that it would be intimidating, but I was nothing more than prey in his eyes.

Three more wolves emerged from the forest, charging full speed at the gate. Their barking drowned out the thunder around us. The impact of the four wolves against the gate overpowered me, and I staggered backwards. Then I turned and ran.

My head start granted me just enough time to slosh up the path and stairs to the front door again before the wolves found their way through the gate. They were now coming after me, and closing in.

I've heard it said that before you die, you see your life pass by you in a one second—and at this time, I was trying to remember so hard what it was that ultimately led me here. All I wanted was that moment of euphoria you're supposed to receive instead of the terror I felt. And just as the door before me suddenly opened and I felt a hand grasp my arm and pull me inside, my fuzzy vision began to darken and my senses began to fail. In a second, I forgot about the wolves and the storm and the fear and I gave in to the darkness


	10. Chapter 10

The prince I normally dreamt about was silenced; in fact, my slumber was a seemingly endless stretch of stillness. A simple sleep it was, but I knew I had somehow changed; from the moment I was pulled into the darkness to now. It was an awakening.

My eyes opened slowly, for they had rested a long time. The soft glow of sunlight was what I first perceived. Reality drifted forward, presenting itself in pieces, one by one.

First, I was in a soft bed. Small and warm.

Second, I was in a cotton gown.

Third, I was in a very large, long room lined with windows and beds. The sun spilled in through the tall windows and the wooden floors glowed like honey.

I summoned my energy and sat up in the bed, though my body felt as if it were still partially detached from my conscience.

My hand traveled up to my temple where I had busted my head and my fingers met woundless skin.

_Have I healed already?_

How could that be possible?

A door opened at the far end of the room; seemingly the only entrance. A plump, middle aged woman entered dressed in white healing robes. She was carrying a tray with food on it. I froze, my mind blank with uncertainty.

She regarded me with a warm smile. "At last you have woken. I really wasn't sure if you were going to come around." The woman set the tray of food down directly onto my lap, "You haven't eaten in a long time."

"Thank you," I said immediately, studying her rosy cheeked face, "please, how long was I out for?"

The smell of hot food met my nose and I was suddenly overwhelmed with hunger. I looked down to see a bowl of porridge accompanied with biscuits and sausages. I was overcome with gratitude.

The kind woman observed me thoughtfully. "You arrived about two days ago. You were very hurt, and ill too. Can you tell me where you came from?" Her tone was gentle and her trustworthy face made me want to tell her everything, but I simply couldn't. My hesitation was enough of an answer for her, though, as she shook her head and offered me a smile.

"You must be starving. You will begin to heal better once you have the energy."

I nodded thankfully, and took a bite of the porridge. It was like pure sunlight filling me, the sensation of real food making its way down to my stomach.

"The others are waiting to meet you," the woman remarked as I dug into the food.

I paused, and looked up at her in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

She smiled again, "Well, your arrival wasn't a very well-kept secret!" She laughed, "It is not often we have visitors, much less a new mistress of the castle." The woman winked.

I stared at her blankly. "Perhaps there's been a mistake."

"Nonsense," she said briskly, grinning from ear to ear, "You are now the mistress of Blackhill. I am at your service, as is every other being who resides here. I'm Matilde. What may we call you?"

"I am very sorry, but I don't understand. I've only just woken up here; how have I come to be your mistress?"

Matilde cocked her head at me, and just as she opened her mouth to reply, the door at the far end of the room opened and a small crowd of people came bustling in, chattering excitedly. Matilde clapped her hands together in delight and sauntered over to them, "She has woken! Look at how much better she looks!"

I stiffened in my bed sheets as the room filled with people. A tall, well-dressed man lead the crowd, and as he reached my bedside he offered me a deep bow. "Welcome to Blackhill," his voice was rooted and kind, "I am Louis, castellan, at your service."

"And I am Toulouse—first heralder and chancellor of this castle," said a stout man, inserting himself in front of Louis. He had a curly mustache perched upon puckered lips, in which he reached for my hand and pecked it gratuitously. Shocked, I withdrew my hand with haste as a hunched over, wizened old man shuffled forward, among the chaos, icy blue eyes peering up at me beneath bushy eyebrows. "I am Ephraim," he rasped, "cottar and candlemaker. At your service."

"And I am-"

"Enough!" Matilde interjected, stepping in between me and the crowd of chattering people, "This is no time for introductions—our mistress is exhausted and hungry! Shoo, all of you! This evening will be a better time!" She held out her arms to block the curious glances and peering eyes. I laid there, speechless, as hurried them away, just as quickly as they had come.

"There will be a welcome feast tonight," Matilde gushed as she returned to the end of my bed, her eyes glittering, "just for you! And everyone will gather then to pay their respects. We have your dress washed and repaired—though there are many others, if you'd like to choose another. Gazelle, our clothier, has worked at creating you a wardrobe fit for a princess since you arrived!"

"Madame Matilde," I began, as I regained my ability to speak, "I am enormously grateful for this grand show of hospitality—but how can any of this be possible? I am truly dazed."

She placed her hand on my forehead and tutted sympathetically, "No wonder, you need more rest! This serum should fix you right up." Matilde produced a small medicinal bottle from her robes, "Just a drop of this will knock you out for maybe an hour, but it's just enough time for your body to do the rest of the healing it needs before tonight." She indicated for me to open my mouth, and just as I did she uncorked the bottle and allowed a drip onto my tongue. I swallowed the acidic serum quickly, and not a moment later did the world around me grow quite hazy.

"Will you tell me your name, dear?" She asked, her voice growing further and further away.

I laid back, forgetting the food next to me entirely, my eyes falling shut like magic.

"My name is Belle." And then I was out again.


	11. Chapter 11

_Belle._

It was not the name I was born with, nor was it anything I had ever answered to before. Never in my life had I met a girl named Belle. I was Mary, always. Stefan had named me Belle, but even he knew who I really was.

But now I am Belle.

I am a girl with long brown hair. My eyes, like Stefan's, are hazel—though a much darker green flecked with a bit of gold. I'm not much taller or shorter than other girls. My complexion is fair. Do I look like a Belle?

No matter. It is who I am now.

When I woke, Matilde led me into a bath—a sizable tub full of warm, bubbly water. She told me to give myself a good soak, and I did. I took a lot of time and washed what was left of Mary right off me.

She had my dress waiting for me when I got out—I thanked her, but opted for a long black dress instead. As it was tailored to be just my size and fit, I figured it was better to leave the fairy's dress behind. Now _everything_ was left behind.

Who is Belle, I pondered? Who am I? What am I doing here?

I stood in front of a tall mirror, asking myself these questions as the light through the grand windows of the washroom began to dim, and the sun was setting on my last day as me.

It wasn't that I hated who I once was, but looking back, I never had the chance to be who I was supposed to be. Parentless and enslaved as well as abused and nearly forgotten, why hold onto an identity that had failed me so? I could never go back to being Mary, now that I was free. I could only hope that my life now, however strange it had become, held better things in store—and that the girl I once was could find peace in the end. If I held onto her, I was holding onto Lorna and all the horrible memories as well. If the fairy was right in what she said, Lorna was dead now because I allowed it.

Because Mary allowed it.

I dried my hair and released it to hang over my shoulders in loose waves, regarding my reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. With a pang of disappointment, I heard a knock on the door. Somehow I felt that I still needed to be alone, but I opened it regardless.

"Your dinner awaits." It was Louis, the tall castellan, dressed finely. He bowed to me and held out his hand. Deciding to just go with it—as it seemed I had no other choice to do so, in this castle full of mad antics, I placed my hand in his and he led the way down a long corridor with a ceiling so high you could hardly perceive it.

"This castle confounds me," I said, gazing up at the impossibly huge paintings that lined the walls; depictions of what seemed to be stories, both terrible and beautiful. Canvases of dark and light, old and otherworldly.

Louis nodded, "Blackhill is a mystery in of itself. And so am I, and so are you, Mistress Belle. There will be much to explore. Toulouse and I would be more than happy to conduct a tour of the castle for you if you please, after dinner."

My heart skipped a beat, "That sounds lovely!"

"And no doubt you will be able to move out of the hospital wing tonight and into your own quarters," he added with a wink.

Most of the hallways were quite long and tall, lined with artwork. We traversed through all kinds of rooms empty of furniture and full of space, and down a crescent staircase that led to, after a few more doorways, a dining room fit for hundreds of people.

It was an airy room illuminated by a massive chandelier casting a golden light upon the castle dwellers. A lengthy table ran the length of the room, and at the end, towering French doors opened up to what I could only assume to be a garden. I hoped to soon find out.

And everyone was waiting for me. Heads turned as Louis led me in; I'm not sure if I remembered to smile. There was a definite air of excitement in the dining hall—so many people, so many voices, so many questions—all accompanied by the sweetest violin tune I had ever heard, drifting from somewhere in the back.

_So this is what dreams are made of._

The table was already set with food—lavished with food, rather, seemingly of every kind, and ready to be eaten. Guests lined up behind their seats in silence, awaiting my presence at the table. My heart skipped every other beat as I ventured forward, greeting them with a bewildered nod.

The plump and stout Toulouse hastily shuffled over to us, clearing his throat with enthusiasm.

"I present now the Lady Belle, Mistress of Blackhill and true Keeper of the Castle!"

The faces cheered, and I was ushered into the seat at the head of the table, followed by the clattering of chairs and whispers as everyone else made to sit. To my right sat Toulouse, the heralder, and next to him was Louis followed by dozens and dozens of others all the way down to the end. To my left was an empty chair, and then sat Matilde followed by a few other faces I think I had seen before.

Everyone was looking my way, eyes lit up in anticipation. My mouth went dry.

_What would Belle do?_

I looked to the table, where sat a goblet of wine right before me. I remembered how fond of it I had been at the prince's ball. Decidedly I picked up the glass and held it out to the audience before me. "To all of you, who welcome me here with such kindness and generosity that I have never before received. I will not forget this night."

"To you!" They chorused back, and we all drank.

I ate to my heart's content as Toulouse chattered to me endlessly of all the rooms and passageways of the castle, and all the things that I could do now that I was here. It was curious, the way he spoke—well, the way all of them spoke, really—as if they meant to imply that they had expected my arrival, and perhaps had even been waiting for it. The enigma spiraled perpetually, but I did not allow these puzzles to inhibit my enjoyment of the evening;

There was roasted duckling flavored with herbs and citrus, dozens of steaming meat pies and bread puddings, bowl upon bowl of a soup so decadent I could hardly finish half my portion; courses upon courses of fresh vegetables stewed or mixed into a hearty salad, platters stacked with roasts and cheeses, giant bowls of pastas—every one with a different kind of sauce, each more aromatic and enticing than the last—and hundreds of other dishes that I had never tried before.

Somewhere along the seventh course, I leaned over the empty chair beside me towards Matilde. "Madame, may I ask, are we missing someone here?"

Matilde looked as if I had caught her off guard—a slight hesitation within her reaction slipped before her kind face broke into a smile. "All is well, my dear! Is there anything I can get for you?"

I began to shake my head as a bumbling man appeared between us, "That is _my_ job!" he exclaimed with an air of importance. "I am Philippe, head butler here!" His fumbling bow nearly caused his head to collide with mine. I shrunk back away from him—just as a dozen others lined up behind him to greet me, one by one.

The introductions seemed to last forever, an every name that met my ears was immediately replaced by another, along with a new title and degree of importance. As the night went on, my eyes grew heavy from the constant buzz of voices and the lulling of the slow violin, paired with the third goblet of wine I sipped.

_I've been finding myself quite sleepy lately._

As if Matilde could hear my thoughts, she stood up and signaled for Louis to follow suit. "Is it time for you to settle into your quarters?" she asked me gently.

I hadn't met everyone yet, and the dining hall was still alive with excitement, chatter, food, and flowing wine. But the truth was I was exhausted already, an eager to spend more time to myself, piecing together who I was now and what I intended to do next. There was much to consider.

I discreetly followed them out of the dining room and through the castle, passing through a labyrinth of rooms, hallways, and staircases. Once I was sure we had neared the top floor, I was led up a stone spiral staircase at the end of a lofty corridor—which reminded me so much, deep inside, of my previous life—and into a magnificent chamber fit for a queen. A feathered down, four poster bed sat next to a pair of French doors lit up by the moonlight outside. At one end of the room was a fireplace with a soft fur rug laying before it, and a monumental wardrobe that stretched opposite of it, paired with an elegant vanity with extensive mirrors, a plushy sofa, and a room off to the side that was no doubt for washing.

"Sleep well, Mistress," Louis said, bowing out.

Matilde smiled warmly at me, "If you need anything at all, all you have to do is say my name out loud—or Philippe's, the butler—and we will be here in mere moments. If you would like breakfast in the morning, it can either be brought up here or you may join us downstairs. You will find all of your wishes fulfilled."

"I will find way downstairs first thing in the morning," I assured her, feeling sick inside at the idea of someone bringing me breakfast all this way, "and if I am able to find the kitchen, I would be happy to make it myself!"

Once Matilde departed, I slipped out of the black dress and into a simply cotton nightgown that waited for me, lain out on the bedspread. I stepped out onto my balcony and regarded the moonlit view of the forest in awe.

I was, no doubt, in the highest tower of the castle, and all I could see were trees stretched out before me. Somewhere far away, I could hear the howling of wolves. I listened to them for a while, wondering what had become of Sir Goose and my father's horse Luc. Shivering, I made my way back inside, shutting the doors tightly behind me.

Only now there was someone else inside the room—a masked figure, standing in the doorway with a sword in their grasp.

"It's Belle, is it?" came their voice from behind the mask—a black cloth that obscured all of their face except for two slits for eyes. I froze where I stood as they took a step forward, brandishing the sword in a threatening manner.

I made to scream, but in a flash the masked figure was before me, their hand pressing against my mouth, "Oh no you don't," they said harshly, "You have some explaining to do."


	12. Chapter 12

I made to scream, but in a flash the masked figure was before me, their hand pressing against my mouth, "Oh no you don't," they said harshly, "You have some explaining to do."

I wrenched myself free from their vice like grip, and backed against the wall of the bedroom, away from the long blade. As I tried to catch my breath again, I noticed a mounted plaque above the fireplace bearing two crossed swords. As quick as my legs could move I was there, wrenching one of the swords from its scaffold, and holding it out in front me of with shaking hands.

The masked figure seemed momentarily amused, moving towards me again with ease. "You don't really think you could fight me, do you? You're not even holding that sword correctly."

"I don't care how I'm holding it," I panted, "My father taught me how to defend myself, and I'll do what I need." This was only half true.

"So be it." They lunged forward, and their sword came crashing down against mine, the force nearly knocking mine from my hands.

"Do you truly mean to kill me?" I gasped, regaining my grip and preparing to strike back. There was no time; again their blade was swinging my way and I could only just avoid it as I laboriously exclaimed, "I can call for help any second!"

"I'm not scared of your _help_," the masked figure replied coldly. It was definitely the voice of a male, however muffled within the mask.

I held out my sword again with both hands, positioning myself in a fighting stance. "Well then you must be scared of me, as only cowards wear masks!"

Again his sword knocked hard against mine, and I leapt back onto my four poster bed, yanking the curtains shut with haste. I stood in the middle of the bed, concealed on all four sides, ready to counter-attack.

"I will ask you only once," said my attacker from behind one of the curtains, "who has sent you here?"

"What? No one has sent me here! Reveal your identity to me or—or suffer the-" My voice faltered as my mind raced, crashing into nothing more than a wall of confusion and frenzy.

"If no one has sent you here, than your presence is impossible!" His voice was to my right. Silent as a cat, I exited from the curtain on my left and crawled beneath the bed, dragging my sword with me as quickly as possible. From my position, I could see my predator's leathery black boots positioned next to the bed, at the ready. If he became distracted, even for a second, I could make it out the door and down the staircase and call for the others. Unable to quiet my breathing, I momentarily held my breath.

_Why am I always running from someone?_

"Come out from behind the curtain and I will consider sparing your life," he proclaimed.

_Surely the promise of a lunatic._

"Alright then. Keep your last words to yourself," and I heard the ripping of curtain as the masked figure leapt onto the bed, and I simultaneously pushed myself out from underneath, careful not to slice myself with my own blade, but once I rolled out onto the open carpet, before I knew it, I was back on my feet and made a dash for the door.

Like a true game of cat and mouse, he was practically on my heels as I raced down the stone steps. Speed was on my side, as always. Once I ran, I was always near impossible to catch—and Belle could run even faster. I was just nearly to the bottom of the steps when a force from behind slammed into me; my attacker had tackled me, and we went tumbling down into the hall with a clamor of swords, a smacking of skulls, and entangling limbs. We landed in a heap, groaning momentarily before scrambling apart.

"I told you!" I exclaimed with exasperation, leaning against the corridor wall to regain my composure, "No one has sent me here. I don't know what you're after, but it's obviously futile."

The masked figure had his sword again at the ready, and though I could see his chest heaving with exhaustion beneath his black satin shirt, he stood before me, positioning his blade to rest right below my chin.

"I have lived here for ten years without the sign of anyone on the outside ever able to know of the existence of this castle. And here you are. Either you were sent here by the Enchantress, or you are one of her minions in disguise." His voice was softer now, ponderous even.

I gazed into the mask, trying to make sense of his words. "I am neither," I replied boldly, "I am Mistress of this castle."

"Interesting title," he replied venomously, "and given to you by whom? No, I don't think so. You are an intruder of some kind. It is my job to protect this castle, and the people inside, for it is our home. All intruders must answer to me."

"And who are you?" I challenged him angrily, forgetting the sword pointed at my throat.

"I am the Master."


	13. Chapter 13

"And who are you?" I challenged him angrily, forgetting the sword pointed at my throat.

"I am the master," he replied.

_Why hadn't I heard anything about a master?_

"How do I know you are who you say you are?" I demanded.

The masked figure heaved a sigh and returned his sword to its scaffold. "I am asking the same of _you_."

"My name is Belle," I insisted, "I came here by accident. I don't know what else I can say about it!"

"And you've been here two days and you've been named Mistress? My world is being turned upside down and I'm going to find out why."

"I'm not leaving," I told him honestly, "at least not yet. I'm sorry if you're confused about something but there are a million things I'm confused about, and I will go when I'm ready."

There was something peculiar about not being Mary anymore that offered me the courage to say such fearless things. Mostly all of my life I was never allowed a voice, and here I found myself for the first time using it. I wore my new identity like armor.

The masked figure was not amused. He stood a few inches taller than me, much resembling a shadow in his black garments. "Whoever you are," he said callously, "we will meet again soon."

_I hope not._

I watched him storm off down the hall, eventually disappearing into the darkness beyond. I took my time going back up the stairs, as the encounter shook me up and my legs were weak. Also, I wanted to listen to make sure I wasn't being followed.

I locked my door this time once I got back up to my room, and pushed the sofa in front of it for good measure. I was scared once again.

I lay awake for at least half of the night, staring out my window at the night sky. The full moon had passed, but it was still quite big. At one point, I slipped out of bed and ventured through the wardrobe, feeling through the dark for the red dress the fairy had given me. It was towards the back. I slipped my hand into one of its pockets, and felt with great relief the weathered piece of paper inside—the address Old Mia had given to me. I could still get there. Maybe I soon would.

Comforted after this, I finally fell asleep after fighting to keep my eyes open for hours.

It was Lorna I saw in my dream. She was hunched over her tea table, face down as her yellow hair pooled around her in blood. I reached out to touch her face, but she was unmovable.

I screamed again and again, until I woke up to the sunlight streaming onto me.

Night terrors. I had never had them before.

There was a light rapping upon my door. I jumped out of bed and sprinted over to it. "Who's there?"

A familiar voice came from the other side, "Its Matilde, my dear! I have some staff here to bring you something to eat."

I hurriedly pushed the sofa away and unlocked the door. "Madame, there was a masked figure who attacked me last night!"

Matilde entered, her face now wrought with concern. "My dear," she gasped, "has someone hurt you?"

"Quite nearly- he said he was the master of this castle! Please tell me what you know of him!"

The two kitchen helps set a tray of food down upon my bed and made their exit, Matilde shutting the door behind them quietly.

"Oh my," she said with a sigh, casting a tired glance over to the shredded curtains around my bed, "The master hasn't reacted the way we'd hoped for your arrival. Nevertheless, my dear, I assure you that you remain our mistress, and nothing changes that."

"But," I protested, "surely there can't be two of us? I don't understand! He was saying something about an Enchantress, and was accusing me of being an intruder!"

"He will come around soon," she said assuredly, picking up the tattered remains of my bed curtains, "don't let him scare you."

"Why does he wear a mask?" I asked in exasperation.

"We are forbidden to speak of it," Matilde explained gently, "but it is of no concern. Would you like some breakfast?" She had cleaned away the shredded material and was pouring some tea.

Defeated, I sat down upon the bed and retrieved a piece of toast.

"Oh, speaking of the master," she said thoughtfully, "he asked me to give you this." She pulled a sealed envelope out from her apron and held it out to me.

I dropped my toast and took it from her hastily, tearing it open without even a glance to the detailed seal. A single piece of parchment was inside, a message scrawled across in glossy black ink:

_I require your presence at dinner tonight. Please make your decisions wisely._

"He continues to threaten me," I said aloud as I finished reading, "I will not respond to being threatened."

"Well then," Matilde sighed, dusting off her apron, "Once you are dressed, if you would like to explore the castle, Toulouse will be awaiting your summon! Also, we have begun planning a garden party! It will be ready in just a couple of days."

I thanked her and finished my breakfast alone. After, I ventured into my wardrobe to see what I could wear. As it was a wardrobe consisting of skirts, shirts, and dresses of all kinds, I picked out a white shirt and blue skirt made of soft material and got dressed. I tied my hair back, letting it fall down my back in a single wave. There were a variety of slippers on the bottom shelf, so I chose a simple black pair to wear.

_How does everything here fit me so well?_

Toulouse, the stout heralder with a curved mustache, met me at the bottom of my stairs. He led me all around the castle, showing me the dining hall again, as well as the minstrel's gallery, the grand and echoing entrance hall, the many bed chambers and solars; he took me through the never-ending kitchen pantry and through the sprawling, bustling kitchen itself. There were drawing rooms and ball rooms and study rooms. Toulouse even mentioned a vast library, several stories high—though he would not show me the way to it. We toured through the undercrofts full of the castle's supplies, and even went past a stairway that supposedly led to the dungeon below the castle. He walked me through the castle's several Keeps and courtyards, and finally we came to a stop in the hall that lead out to the gardens.

Equipped with a much heightened sense of geography, I found my way back up to my room and spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on my balcony, soaking in the sun and beneath all the whirring thoughts in my mind. The sun went down in no time. Matilde checked on me twice; once, to check my health and again to bring me some fruit. She watched over me constantly.

When it was dark, I lit the candles and fire in my room and prepared for the evening. Around eight thirty, a soft tap on my door revealed Louis, the castellan.

"The master is ready for you to join him for dinner."


	14. Chapter 14

"The master is ready for you to join him for dinner."

"And if I don't go, will he come after me with his sword again?" I asked, pouring myself a glass of wine.

"I cannot say," Louis replied simply, "but I can only hope you two can coexist here happily. Give it a chance."

"Not tonight," I said decidedly, "I will decline his _invitation_. Forgive me, Louis, but the past few days have taken its toll on me and I prefer to be alone."

Louis nodded, "I will relay the message, Mistress Belle. Please summon me if I can be of any service." He disappeared down the stairs.

I locked my door behind him and stayed awake drinking before the fire sometime, sitting contentedly in my isolation and silence before falling asleep. There was no word from anyone else that night, and I was most thankful.

I awoke the next morning to a knocking at my door; it was Matilde and a couple of others with breakfast. I ate it in the room with them as we conversed, and afterwards I got dressed and followed them down to the gardens where they were setting up a garden party for the next day. Many hands from the castle pitched in throughout the morning and afternoon, bringing out tables, chairs, tents, etcetera; and so we ate our lunch of bread, cheese and cider outside in the sunny and warm weather.

"So much preparation goes into such affairs as these," I noted, lying out in the grass by a grand, sparkling fountain in the garden. Matilde was very pleased. "Every day you are with us is a reason to celebrate," she said, stringing flowers upon a long chain. The party was to consist of a number of contests; sword play, archery, dancing, craft making and jesting. There was to be gift giving and food and general merriment—as well as a play. There were to be games and flowing wine and music lasting into the evening. We sat on a blanket beneath the shade of some trees upon the wide lawn. Never would you have been able to tell, upon entering the castle from the front as I had done, that such a magnificent garden was sprawled across the grounds, impeccably maintained.

Shortly after we finished eating, Louis came to us from across the courtyard and delivered another sealed envelope to my hands. With a smile and a wink, he was on his way back up to the castle just as quickly as he had come. I studied the envelope, made of fine canvas paper and gold trim, and hesitated before opening it. The seal was fashioned with red wax and bore the letter "A".

Inside was another single piece of parchment paper, with the same glossy blank ink scrawled across it:

_Meet me in Blackhill's highest tower at ten tonight. Bring nothing with you and I will bring nothing with me._

I looked up at Matilde with confusion. "Why does he insist on an audience if he doesn't even want me here?"

"Perhaps everything isn't what it seems," she mused aloud, concentrating upon her stringing task.

_I'm well aware of that already._

"What do you suppose will happen if I refuse to meet him again?" I asked.

"He will ask again."

I sighed, and gathered a quill and a bottle of ink from a basket that was left out by one of the servants, and wrote my reply beneath his original note:

_Tomorrow we are having a garden party. If you request an audience with me, it is there that I will grant it. I, at least, will not be wearing a mask. Bring nothing with you._

"Is there someone that could deliver this to him tonight?" I folded the parchment and slipped it back into the envelope, feeling accomplished.

"I can," Philippe the butler appeared at my side, eager to help. I handed it off to him and Philippe made his depart with a determined gait. Matilde offered me a meaningful smile.

That night I wandered the halls alone, musing about the shadows in curiosity. I studied some of the paintings as I walked. They appeared even more chilling among the shadows. One in particular that I came across captured my intrigue—a scene of two fairies; one dark, one light. Both had wings; the light one had long golden hair that streamed behind her and the other had raven black hair tangled among a crown of thorns. The two images held hands at the center of the picture, though their faces were saddened. The impression came upon me that the two, though they appeared to be opposites, were really quite close in some way.

The next day I woke up at dawn, and perceived the sunlight falling through my balcony doors. I rolled out of bed and stepped into the light, stretching. Today, the inhabitants of the castle were throwing a garden party—a day I anticipated to never forget! Except for one thing—

There was a note attached to my balcony railing by wax, flittering slightly in the breeze. Already fuming, I snatched the note up and read it hurriedly:

_If it's a party you want, it's a party you will get. See you there._

By now I easily recognized the master's messy scrawl, and his constant hostile tone.

_But how did he have this delivered?_

I cast an alarmed glance to the inside of my room for signs of disturbance; my door was clearly locked and by habit, now, the sofa was strategically placed in front of it. Could this villain climb walls?

After dressing, I made my way down the long trek to the kitchen, which was already alive and buzzing with kitchen hands and additional helpers preparing the garden party' fare. Matilde and Louis were overseeing the rush, but greeted me with enthusiasm nonetheless. As I entered, curios glances were thrown my way by the many workers in the mix, for much of them I had still not yet met.

"We've added partridge to the menu!" Matilde informed me, wiping her feathered hands away at her apron. It seemed that not only did she play the role as matron in charge of the hospital wing, but she too was involved in all matters occurring at the castle. Louis was more or less her counterpart, taking lead of all the smallest and largest affairs.

"What can I do to help?"

"_You_," interjected Louis, "are the mistress of Blackhill. We are all your servants. We celebrate in your honor."

I hadn't yet gotten used to this new life, never having to do chores or answer to anyone. "I believe the master intends to join us," I tried to sound indifferent.

"No doubt," Louis replied thoughtfully, trying a sample of some soup that was brought to him, "he has been holed up for longer than usual lately, especially after-"

"—Come now, my dear," Matilde interrupted, guiding me by the arm and leading me away from the kitchen, "if you truly wish to help, I believe hands are needed in the dining hall." We parted ways.

It was high noon by the time the garden was prepared; there were countless tents erected for purposes of entertainment and relaxation. Flowers and lanterns hung from the trees, strung out over the sky; an exquisite canopy of light and blossoms. Flags and banners decorated the tents and areas of play—and, for some reason equally horrifying and offensive to me—everyone wore a mask.

_What wicked jest is this?_

They were masks fashioned after woodland creatures—foxes, wolves, birds, squirrels, etcetera—and as I met with Toulouse, who was in the midst of fastening his boar's mask to his face, he handed me one of my own. It was very unlike the others, not a woodland creature of any sort, but an angel's mask with a halo attached. Growing wearier with every passing second, I put it on.

There were hundreds of people—just as it was at my welcome feast, every inhabitant of the castle was present, dressed for summer and decorated as a specific animal. They gathered as one at the foot of the steps leading up to the dining hall. Toulouse took his place at the top of the stairs, and with his booming voice, began, "We shall start off the day's festivities with a chase!"

The crowd cheered. Toulouse held his hand up to silence them, "A contest of endurance and loyalty, to which we owe to our little friend!" Here, a figure dressed as an owl stepped forth with a squirming pig in their hands. Toulouse gathered the pig in his arms and held it out for the crowd to see. "Our friend carries a treasure worthy of our mistress." The Owl tied a ribbon around the pig's unruly neck with skilled fingers, and fastened to this ribbon was a single red rose. "To whomever catches this prize has the reward of honoring our mistress with this treasure, and dancing with her this evening!"

I blushed shamelessly beneath my mask. If only these people knew where I had come from; Lorna and the girls would've laughed themselves to death at the idea of people competing for my company.

Nonetheless, the band of fiddlers and pipe players and drummers struck up at once, and Toulouse set the pig running across the garden, with all the people thundering after it in a roar of laughter and squeals.

"Now _that_ is how you commence a party," Toulouse declared pompously, returning to my side with two glasses of wine.

"I'll say," came a voice from behind us, "to whosoever catches the treasure will have the privilege of dining with our mysterious mistress and learning _all_ of her secrets."

Toulouse and I turned; there he was, tall and wearing black, a demon's mask covering his face. The master had arrived.


	15. Chapter 15

"Now _that_ is how you commence a party," Toulouse declared pompously, returning to my side with two glasses of wine.

"I'll say," came a voice from behind us, "to whosoever catches the treasure will have the privilege of dining with our mysterious mistress and learning _all_ of her secrets."

Toulouse and I turned; there he was, tall and wearing black, a demon's mask covering his face. The master had arrived.

"And all my secrets I would gladly give them," I replied lightly, "should they ask me without holding a sword to my throat."

"Forgive me, Mistress Belle," the master said with a warning tone, "but it seems not to me that you are aware of what you've walked in to."

"Ahem," Toulouse interceded, "but it is my belief that the castle would see you two enjoy the merriment together, today. The morale has been at an ever low, you see…"

"I _understand_," the master interrupted, waving Toulouse away with irritation—it was here I noticed that his hands were gloved with black leather. "Listen," he said, turning to me and lowering his voice considerably, "Despite previous introductions, I have a duty to maintain hope in my people, and all I ask of you today is to just play along."

"Hope?" I asked, "Hope about what?"

"Why do you _ask_ so many questions?"

I squinted up at him through my mask, straining my eyes to imagine the face behind his. "I don't trust you," I said honestly, "but I too am fond of the people here and I would just as likely see them happy for whatever it takes, though I probably won't stay here much longer."

"You'll trust me before long," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the oncoming rush of people who were cheering amongst themselves, headed by a younger lad holding the rose in his fist with triumph. The boy looked to be quite young—no more than eleven years old, as his mask was lost, but he clearly belonged amongst this crew as they all shouted his name joyously.

"Barnabas! Barnabas!" they called as he ran forward, out of breath and hands on his knees by the time he reached us. The master laughed as he greeted the boy, "Barney, have you won the favor of the mistress then?"

"I have sir," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow and the mud from his pants, "For you, Lady Belle." Barney held the rose out for me to take, and I received it with a grin concealed by the mask I wore.

"Fair fighter," I said, "you have earned your prize."

The master ruffled the boy's hair playfully, a seemingly familiar gesture as the boy playfully sparred with him before running off.

_No one seems affected by his hideous demon mask._

We were then swarmed by the crowd as the band struck up _Greensleeves_ and suddenly there was dancing all around. Toulouse returned and seized me by my elbows and swung me around, his laughter bellowing into the air.

The fun lasted a long while. It was if these people had never had the chance to relax and celebrate before, as if at any moment this joy could simply vanish like it never was. The master disappeared into the midst of the sword fighting tourney and I remained among the many castle dwellers still eager to meet me. These proceedings stretched far into the afternoon and gave way to supper—a fantastical summer feast to be served on the lawn among long wooden tables with heavy benches.

The sun began to set, and we were halfway through the fourth course as the lanterns above us twinkled gently before the master returned and found a seat among the others. He did not remove his mask to eat, but instead seemed to sit back and observe the remainder in a somber silence.

A small play took place after dinner, a show of fake sword play and prancing animals. Barnabas sat at my side during this, laughing and cheering with joy. It was after this that the dancing resumed, this time beneath the light of the twinkling lanterns. To my sincerest surprise, the master approached me, holding out one of his gloved hands for me to take.

I hesitated, unsure if it was some kind of trick or not.

"Lady Belle," he said, "I ask only for one dance. I will be leaving after this."

I silently consented, taking his gloved hand and allowing him to lead us beneath the canopy of light.

He kept one of my hands in his own, standing half a head taller than me, and placed his other on my back. We began to move to a simple waltz. I stared at his demon mask, the glowing red eyes and the sharp teeth set upon a grotesque face.

"What is your name?" I finally asked.

"It's Adrian."

_Adrian._

"I've answered a question for you- now tell me, if you leave, where will you go?" His voice was lowered so our words could not be overheard.

"I have some place in mind," was all I said.

He shook his head, "There is something out there. In the woods. I would not advise you leave here soon."

I stared at him silently, unsure of whether or not to trust what he said.

"I know you're running from something," he continued, "there's only so much you can hide. I will offer you safe haven here for now, but I warn you this place is no safer than any other, before long."

I couldn't find any words to reply with; I felt as if speaking to this person even minimally somehow showcased everything I sought to hide and protect. I didn't want anyone to know I was running. They couldn't know.

A light sprinkle came falling from the sky—soft drops that fell slowly and far apart.

_The rain comes again._

Bodies shifted around us to move beneath the tents. Adrian didn't show any signs of wanting to follow them, but continued to waltz with me.

"When I knocked at the front door, there were wolves after me. I was seconds away from meeting death," I said, "and then someone opened the door and pulled me inside. Who was it?"

"Only I can open the door," he replied simply.

"It was you?" I asked, astonished, "and to only attack me upon my wakening!"

"I understand it must seem strange to you, but you don't yet know this story."

The rain continued to fall, thickening gradually.

"Take off your mask." I requested at last.

"I don't think so."

"Why do you hide?"

I could hear him sigh behind the devil's face, "For the same reason you do."

I looked around; most everyone had wandered away—either back inside the castle or within the shelter of the tents. The lanterns above us were going out one by one.

"Let's play a game—you'll do the chasing this time. If you can catch me, I will take off my mask." Adrian said with a hint of mischief.

I cocked my head at him, and then looked up at the extinguished lanterns. There were but two still alight, flaming despite the rain. "Fine," I conceded, "when the last lantern goes out you are free to run."

We stood in a heavy silence as we watched the penultimate lantern go dark, and then, in an infinity of moments later the final lantern dimmed and before I had realized it, Adrian was gone.

I could see a dark shadow darting back towards the illuminated castle through the rain, and I pursued it as fast as my legs could carry me.

He flung the dining hall doors open and disappeared inside. I rushed in after, greeted with surprised and confused expressions by those who remained inside to eat. I ran past them, towards the end of the hall where Adrian had vanished around the corner. My instincts told me he was heading up the staircase. The speedy climb all but knocked the breath out of me, but I continued down the corridor after his footsteps and wound up in a circular room full of furniture covered in white sheets. Momentarily lost, I came to a stop in front of an enormous round table topped with an oversized cloth. The masked demon emerged from behind a large covered mirror, startling me, and approached the round table from the other side. I made to go after him again, but he rounded the table quicker than I and was off again, down the corridor and up another staircase. I followed him, of course, becoming increasingly aware that I had not yet been to this part of the castle. The chase went on higher and higher and I could just barely keep up; it wasn't until Adrian disappeared up a spiral staircase that clearly led to a tower that I began to suspect what was going on.

Fully out of breath, I walked to the top of the tower. Adrian was waiting for me, sitting on the sill of the open window in the empty room, the rain coming down hard behind him.

"Now tell me, Belle, once and for all: did somebody send you here?"

I approached him wearily, pulling off my mask to better catch my breath. "This is where you asked me to meet you last night. How is this place different from the rest of the castle?"

"This castle is enchanted," Adrian explained from his perch in the window, "except for this tower. The highest tower is untouched by magic. We can trust each other here."

"I would never trust a devil," I said, approaching him slowly, "but to answer your question—no, I came upon this place by chance. I did not know where I was going, but here I am."

"Here you are," he echoed quietly. "Then you must know who I am."

The master removed his mask and shook his dampened hair free, letting the demon face fall to the floor with a clatter.

I stood, frozen as my eyes set upon a face that was so familiar to me that I felt as if I were once again dreaming.

It was the prince, the screaming prince I had dreamt of for so long.

He looked at me with those familiar green eyes, his long brown hair sticking to his neck as he combed it behind his ears with his fingers. He could only be a couple of years older than me.

"I _do_ know you!" I gasped, "you've been calling for me—at least you _were_, I'd nearly forgotten-"

"Listen to me carefully," he said intensely, stepping forward and placing his hands on my shoulders, "I don't know why you are here, and apparently neither do you, but I _know_ it's for a reason. We cannot speak a word of it anywhere else but here. We could both be in great danger."

My eyes widened at his words, "Let's leave," I said immediately, "I'll take you with me—the reason I'm here is to save you. I've always felt it in my heart, I just didn't know it was real!"

"I can't leave," he said, shaking his head in despair, "I am a part of this enchantment. If the Enchantress finds out that you are here, there's no telling what great evil she would commit."

"But there has to be an answer to all of this," I declared, gazing keenly into his eyes, "otherwise, how would I be able to find you?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. There was a guttural scream from downstairs. It was far below us, but it reached our hiding place loud and clear. Without a word, Adrian took off back down the stairs and I followed him closely, my heart beating wildly. We followed the sound of the screams a few more flights below until we came upon the servant's quarters, where in a long corridor, many were gathered around the commotion.

Adrian quickly stepped through the crowd and they parted when they noticed me. A middle aged woman was on her knees, cradling Barnabas in her arms and sobbing wildly as he lay, seemingly lifeless, unresponsive. The rose he had won earlier stayed tucked into his shirt pocket.

"Barney!" Adrian exclaimed with horror, rushing to his side and picking him up immediately. "Matilde!" he cried, "Matilde help us!"

She was there in a flash, wearing her white healing robes and greeting Adrian with a look of despair. "It cannot be," she gasped, helping him lift Barney up. I hurried to the weeping woman and helped her up too; she was inconsolable. "My son, Barney!" was all I could make out of her sobs.

Adrian and Matilde were taking Barney away. "He needs to get to the hospital wing," Adrian remarked desperately.

"What's happened?" someone asked in the crowd, "What does this mean?" A sense of panic arose among the servants, and suddenly there was Louis and Toulouse, stepping in to calm everyone down. Once Barney's mother was overtaken by helping hands, I removed myself from the commotion and walked away from the scene. I took myself as far away as possible from the others, from the hospital wing, for something inside me told me with malevolence that the tragedy was of my doing. Somehow, me being here was causing the castle to come undone and my presence was toxic.

_No one knows you're here_, I thought to myself, _you came here by accident._

_This is all just a coincidence._


	16. Chapter 16

The prince paced back and forth beside the boy's sick bed as the healing woman busied herself with putting together the medicine they hoped would bring him back. The windows to the hospital wing were darkened but reflective, illustrating the shifting figures inside against the golden candlelight.

Matilde fumbled with her apparatus. "I don't—I don't know exactly what's wrong with him," she muttered, pressing her head to Barnabas' chest to listen for a heartbeat again, "It's as if the spirit inside of him has simply vanished. His heart beats slowly, but he does not breathe nor does he show any other sign of being alive. Certainly this is the effects of dark magic…"

The prince rubbed his temples in despair, his tired mind straining his memory for answers. "It is definitely the effect of the Enchantress, though I suspect she does not yet know of this. I fear this is only the beginning, for as we knew Belle's arrival would change everything. If Barney is still alive, then there is yet hope."

"I will always have hope," Matilde said softly, though there were tears in her eyes.

The prince looked up at her, his face weary with worry. "I will not let anything happen to us," he declared, "you are all under my protection, forever. We will bring Barney back one way or another."

"We must protect the girl. She is our only hope."

"Leave that to me. I need you to keep an eye out on things going on here in the castle. I order everyone to choose a companion and watch over each other at all times until I find more answers. In the meanwhile, we cannot dwell on our fears. If we keep our spirits and hopes high, we can fight this." The prince took one long, last glance at his friend laying in the bed, and moved out of the hospital wing and back through the castle, searching for the girl he had seen so long ago in the reflection pool—the girl he knew would come save him and break the curse.

* * *

I was twelve years old when the Enchantress came. My mother and I lived on that faraway island, living a simple life in the woods.

I was chopping wood in the front of our home when an old lady approached me from the forest path, hunched over in a ragged robe and clutching a basket full of roses. I waited her approach, speechless, as we rarely had strangers in those parts.

"Boy," she said to me in a wheezy voice, "did you know, you are a prince?"

"Ma'am?"

Her smile was full of rotted teeth. She hobbled nearer. "A prince indeed," she hissed.

I could sense something was not right—the mere stench of her foul breath indicated as much. There was a peculiar gleam in her eyes, a sort of hunger that sent a tremor of fear through me. Up to that point in my life, I had never had a reason to be afraid. But she made me afraid.

"Will you accept a gift from an old wench?" She held out one of the roses from her basket.

"Mother!" I called towards our humble home. She was just inside, preparing our supper.

My mother emerged from our home, wiping her brow in exhaustion. Her apron was covered in flower. "Adrian, who do you speak with?" she asked, concern dawning on her face as she drew towards us.

"Who are you?" I asked the hooded crone, clutching my chopping axe.

"I am only a passer through the woods. But I have come a long way, and am eager to bestow this gift upon you." She held out the rose to me with a weak, shaky hand.

"Don't take that," my mother said sharply. She was now standing at my side, hands on her hips. "What business do you have here? The main road does not run hither."

The stranger drew back her hood, revealing the extent of her wrinkly, haggard face and tangled grey hair. "Share your supper with me, I bring important news."

I knew my mother was distrustful of this woman, but my mother was not afraid like I was. She stood tall, stepping in front of me. "Be gone. The birds in the forest tell us all we need to know here."

"Oh, but the birds know not what I know," she replied softly, the gleam in her eyes darkening.

My mother instantly turned to me, her voice a rapid whisper, "Go inside and lock the door. Do not open it under any circumstance."

I didn't understand what was going on, but the tone in my mother's voice was not to be contended with. I dropped the axe and headed inside, my legs moving with haste. With one last glance behind me, I moved inside the house and bolted the door.

Through the window I spied. My mother faced the old woman, and more words they seemed to exchange. A tremor of fear passed through me as I watched my mom discreetly reach for the axe as the crone drew nearer to her. A long moment passed between them before my mother spat in the hag's face.

In a flash, the old hag had her bony hands on my mother's throat and was thrashing her about with the strength of a man. Before I could run to help her, she dropped to the ground, lifeless.

The world stood still as my life came crashing down around me. My mother, who had only minutes before was preparing our supper, was dead, murdered at the hands of this stranger. I watched in horror as the old woman looked over at me, and, resuming her grip upon the basket of roses, stepped over my mother's body and approached my house.

I withdrew from the window, shaking in fear. My mother had told me to lock the door—she must have suspected something terrible was going to happen to me. I scanned the kitchen for something to defend myself with. The only sharp tool we had was a single butcher's knife, dulled from constant use. I snatched it up as a soft knock sounded at the door.

Silently I shifted over to the door, pressing my ear against it as I clutched the knife with shaking hands.

"I know you're in there," the old lady said in a sing song voice. I could hear a light scratching from the other side.

"If you try to come in, I will kill you," I declared, trying to sound brave like my mother had.

There was no answer. As I listened at the door, I could hear her soft footsteps retreat, though I remained where I was, out of the window's view.

She was out there somewhere—maybe waiting for me to come out, or figuring out another way to come inside. There weren't any, so I remained by the door ready to strike.

That's when the putrid smell of smoke met my nose.

It came from the back of the house, wafting forward with growing intensity. I cupped my free hand over my mouth and ran towards the back, searching for the flames.

The fire had been made from the outside; it grew remarkably fast, the flames penetrating the walls like a wave of fury. This, I realized, was no earthly fire. Quicker than I could ever imagine possible, my house was filling up with smoke.

I dropped to the floor, ducking beneath the stinging heat. This was how she intended to get me out. I remained on the floor as the smoke billowed around me now. I began to cough and wheeze as the last of the air was overtaken by the deadly smoke and the heat from the fire crept closer to me. I would have no choice but to make a run for it.

_One, two, three._

I leapt to my feet and made a dash through the black smoke towards the door, unbolting and flinging it open in one motion.

The old hag was waiting for me on the other side. Momentarily blinded by the afternoon sun, and light-headed from the lack of air, I was not ready for what came next.

There were two men dressed in black standing over my mother's body. They caught me by my arms and flung the butcher's knife into the woods. I grew dizzy trying to fight them off, but my strength against theirs did not compare. The crone approached us, her laughing like the croaking of a toad.

She pulled a sack from her robes as she came towards me, and as she did so her appearance transformed. First the wrinkles on her face tightened into smooth skin and her rotted teeth fell away, replaced by a brilliant white smile, however cruel it was. Long black hair fell from her hood, replacing the grey, and she grew tall and straight. I struggled more with the men, but their grips upon me only tightened and I cried out in pain as the woman, now standing before me like a youthful queen, seized me by the chin and forced me to look into her black eyes.

"Adrian," she mused, "you will serve me well." Then, she pulled the sack over my head and everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

Stefan entered the throne room, his head held high above all the groveling lords and ladies that blocked the path to the dais where the thrones sat, and thereupon his parents waited for him.

"Father," Stefan greeted the king abruptly, "Father I need to ask a favor."

King Peter looked to his son, eyebrows raised. Stefan did not often come to talk to him—he was very much like himself when he was young, always busy with his own affairs. The ball had come to pass and his son was still not engaged, which had caused tension in the palace. The King was anxious to see his son succeed.

"What is it?" he asked him, waving off one of his councilmen.

Stefan stepped close to him, his voice low. "I seek a hunt in the woods. I need three of your men to go with me. We'll be gone for a few days."

King Peter heaved a heavy sigh and turned to his wife, the queen, as they exchanged knowing glances. "Son," he began, "your lack of productivity concerns me. You are aware that we are currently making preparations for yet another ball. Your presence at the palace is central to these matters. The king's deer has been slayed for the summer, there is but little left to hunt anyway."

"Father," Stefan replied sternly, "I do not wish to hunt your deer. There is a girl I met last week at the ball—I think she might be in trouble. I'm going to go find her."

The king's ears perked up in surprise, "Come again? You're going to go look for a girl in the woods? Explain yourself."

Stefan shook his head impatiently, "Please listen to me. This girl was the daughter of Lord Francis DeWitt. She was made Lord Terrowin's ward illegally, however, and I've received grave news about that man. She ran away at the ball, and I know he went after her. Father, he's a necromancer."

The queen gasped audibly and the idle chatter in the throne room immediately died down as heads turned towards the prince and the king.

King Peter huffed and got to his feet, adjusting the sizable crown on his head as he took Stefan by the arm and steered him away from the crowd. "Keep your voice down," he snapped, "and do you mean to tell me you plan on going after this girl? Unless I have proof of any illegal activities or dark magic, there is nothing I can do to help. It would cause a scandal."

"I'm not worried about arresting him," Stefan protested, "I need to make sure Mary is okay. I think I can find her, but I fear if I go alone then I could end up in a very sticky situation—my men have told me that Lord Terrowin is a skilled hunter, and if he too is a necromancer than we may have a worthy villain in our midst."

"I just can't keep you out of trouble, can I?" King Peter exclaimed, "Do you understand what you're risking, here? I need you to be engaged within this month. I—I don't want you running off into the woods at this time. We have guests at the palace who are eager to meet you."

Anger jolted through the prince as he gazed at his father. "It's always about what you want, isn't it? It would work out perfectly well for you if I would be engaged and crowned so you could go back to your island and resume your life of leisure and adventure, away from this place! If I'm going to be stuck here doing your bidding, I will do it on my terms. I am going into the woods on the morrow and I won't come back until I've found Mary." Stefan turned away from the king and made his way out of the throne room, ignoring the whispers and goggling from the nobles as he strode away.

One of the prince's men met him in the Great Hall, brandishing a glass slipper. "Is this what you were talking about?"

Stefan took the glass slipper and examined it. "It was left behind on the stairs. If it has Mary's scent, we will be able to track her and hopefully we will do it in time. Get the hounds ready."

His man nodded and set off to fulfill the task as Stefan remained, peering curiously at the slipper, remembering the girl he had met that night—the strange girl, like no other, the one he would give anything to meet again.

* * *

Adrian found me in the garden the next morning. I had intended to be alone for quite some time, for all that had passed left me overwhelmed and anxious. The only thing I could think to do was leave—but how could I leave the prince behind? I had ended up here for a reason, and that too was what scared me.

I thought I had run away. I thought I had started something new… but this was merely a continuation of the life I once had, Mary's life. And now that I was no longer Mary I found myself more lost and alone than ever before.

Adrian always seemed to wear black—a black blouse tucked into black pants tucked into black boots and gloves. Was it a sign of mourning? Did he have no other clothes? I myself wore whatever my closet provided me—now an endless amount of dresses and tunics and robes, all my size.

"Belle," he greeted me as he approached. I studied his face in the sunlight—he had a very nice face, one that I regarded with a certain familiarity. His long brown hair was pushed back behind his ears, though many strands still fell across his forehead. He smiled when he saw me, a perfectly brilliant smile.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked immediately, referring to Barnabas, "what has happened to him?"

Adrian's smile faded. "I don't yet know," he said grimly, "but we will be taking great caution, moving forward. Everyone in the castle has chosen someone else to look over each day and night until we know more."

"It's my fault," I blurted suddenly, "I can feel it in my heart—I feel many things there! And I think me coming here has set something into motion and Barney's illness, so to speak, has every bit to do with it. I am so sorry, I wish I knew the answer-"

Adrian stopped me by pressing one of his fingers to my lips. I paused.

"If you allow me, I will be looking after you. There is much we need to know about each other, Belle. But don't blame yourself for any of this; evil comes from one place. And you have brought no evil here."

His words calmed me, but did not entirely eliminate the grating feeling in my gut.

"I will help you find answers," I declared.

"I know you will," he replied, his green eyes peering into mine, "because I too feel things in my heart, and if I know anything at all, it's that this is right. Your presence here has given me great courage."

I managed to laugh. "As long as you don't greet me with a sword fight, I think we can work together very well."

He too laughed, and that's when Louis approached us from the garden terrace, his long face taut with exhaustion. "Master and Mistress," he mused, "good day to the both of you," he nodded respectfully, "Master, your presence is requested in the hospital wing. It is no emergency."

Adrian nodded solemnly. "Louis, I have chosen Belle to watch over. I trust you have a companion?"

Louis pursed his lips then replied, "Indeed I do. Philippe was most enthusiastic to take on that job."

The head butler, Philippe, simultaneously emerged from the dining room and appeared on the terrace, making his way over to us with an urgent gait. It was obvious Louis didn't return his enthusiasm as readily.

Adrian turned to me, "If you have no plans for lunch time, I will come find you."

He then set off across the garden with Louis, speaking discreetly among each other.

Within the same hour I wandered to the kitchen, where coming upon the entrance, I overheard a conversation inside. I approached slowly and with hesitation, unsure if this was a conversation I was meant to be aware of.

"The Master is in high spirits," this was one of the kitchen workers, "it's been so long since he's been this way, despite the circumstances…"

"Ah, yes, the young master feels great hope, I believe," this was Matilde's voice, "I knew he would come around to the girl. She has recovered well."

"Is it true, she was nearly dead when she first arrived? It was a miracle you saved her."

Matilde sighed audibly, "It was the master that saved her, not me. He carried her to the hospital wing and summoned me in the middle of the night. I brought all my medicines with me, but he insisted at staying by her side through the night. I think he expected to lose her—it really was quite the miracle."

"Does the girl know?"

A long moment of silence passed before Matilde replied, "About the curse? I believe not. There are already so many thoughts whirring through her poor head. Let's just allow her to enjoy her time while she is here, and hope for the best."

"Indeed. Perhaps there is only a little bit of time left before the Enchantress discovers her. How could we possibly hide her?"

"The time for hiding has passed. The master intends to fight, should anything come of this. Make sure you are watching over your companion constantly. If we lose each other, we will have nothing left."

I retreated from the kitchen. I had heard too much, I knew.

But there was a curse?

An enchanted castle, a mysterious master, an evil enchantress, _and_ a curse?

_What have I become a part of? What kind of curse is this?_


	18. Chapter 18

_I have combined my last update with the second part into one whole chapter. This is the full of Chapter 18._

* * *

It was well past lunch when Adrian finally found me—I was visiting with Ephraim, the cotter and candlemaker, who was showing me around the castle armory. The tower was stock full of weapons and fighting gear, all covered in a heavy layer of dust and set in their places as if they had never even been touched. The hour was late, and the sun was lowering in the sky.

Adrian greeted me with a smile, though there were dark circles beneath his eyes. "Would you like to have dinner?"

_Quite the turn of character._

"Yes," I said, "It would appear we have much to discuss." I needed to know about this curse. I needed to know everything. If this truly was the prince I had dreamt about for years and years, than our destinies were entwined, and that I was sure of. But what would he need to know of me, in turn? I still had very little answers to give.

I followed Adrian down past the dining room and out onto the garden terrace. Louis waited for us with two lanterns and a picnic basket. One of the lanterns was handed to me, Adrian gathered the rest, and with a mischievous wink, he set out into the dark. Louis stayed behind.

"The gardens here are extensive," Adrian explained as we walked, "It's pretty incredible. Outsiders can't see it, though. Only us."

_For now._

We passed through the garden terrace and the multiple courtyards that blanketed the land. The farther we went, the higher the grass grew, as if we were going somewhere untouched and forgotten. The light from our lanterns was just enough to illuminate our wild path. The night was quiet, still. I followed Adrian for what seemed to be a long time, a long distance. Glancing back over my shoulder after a while, I could no longer see the castle against the starry sky.

"Adrian," I whispered, for even my softened voice seemed too loud, "will we leave the castle grounds?"

"I cannot," he whispered back, "no matter how far we seem to go, it is still enchanted here. Ten years of exploring has given me a great knowledge of this strange place."

"Ten years? Where were you before then?"

Adrian turned sharply to me, a slender finger pressed to his lips, his green eyes gleaming gold in the lantern light. We continued on into the wild, the trees around us growing closer together and the noises of forest creatures sounding in the near distance. It was around this time I noticed Adrian carried a sword, not in his hands, but within a hilt hung at his side. He moved with such dexterity and swiftness that it was difficult to notice something he didn't intend to show. I suddenly felt quite bare, being unarmed. As if I should've known there would be cause to defend ourselves at any given time.

After what seemed to be a half hour or so of walking, Adrian slowed his pace. We were coming upon some rocks and reeds. The trees around us began to spread out, allowing an oval shaped meadow to take their place; a space no larger than a tea room. A low hanging willow tree stood nestled against the reeds; here, Adrian sat the picnic basket down among the grass and beckoned me to follow him. He stepped through the thick curtain of the hanging willow, and through it I beheld a pool.

A small pond of sorts it was, framed by weathered stones and lapping just barely upon a grassy bank at the foot of the willow's mighty trunk. We stood at the roots of the tree in silence, clutching our lanterns with hesitation.

"I saw you here," Adrian spoke quietly.

I studied his face, his longing gaze seemingly penetrating the pool, his brows furrowed in thought. I then looked to the pool rippling softly in the moonlight. I sat down my lantern beside me and crouched over the rocks. "Do you mean this is a looking pool, like the kind in fairy tales?"

"Yes," he said, crouching beside me, "I think it has magic contained. I came upon it shortly after I was brought here, and it first showed me whatever I asked it to. I have no control over what I can see. There is something inside it that can hear me. It's a mystery." Adrian shrugged, as if he had long given up trying to figure out the meaning of this looking pool.

"If that's true," I mused, "then I can see something too!" I leaned forward, but Adrian held out his arm to stop me.

"No doubt you are hungry?"

I sat back, my eyes lingering on the still water.

We went back through the willow's curtain into the small clearing where he had left the picnic basket. We sat our lanterns together like a small fireplace and gathered around; Adrian pulled out two flasks of water and some simple packed food. I could feel the ghosts of questions filling the space between us as we ate, though I hardly knew this person.

"I know I frightened you when you first came here. I had to make sure you weren't a trick, a way of the Enchantress trying to deter my fight against her," Adrian explained as we sat together beyond the willow tree, "I first saw you in the pool, just a couple of years ago. It was the last thing I've seen there. It was a message: you would come, and you would get me out of here alive."

"Tell me more of this Enchantress," I insisted, "I assume you didn't land here the same way I did."

"I woke up here. It was the first thing I perceived after the Enchantress took me from my home. I was alone in an empty castle, left to wander it in bewilderment and despair… then the others began to arrive.

"Matilde and Louis came together. They assumed they had always been there, and told me so. They called me Master from day one. They took care of me, taught me how to cook, fight, taught me everything I would have learned in school- and they kept me company. Toulouse was next, and then Ephraim—the others just began to appear in indistinguishable groups. The last one was Barney. All of them, suddenly living in the castle as if to resume a life they once had." His voice was mild, detached as he went on. I listened in awe.

"The Enchantress… she cursed me. I cannot tell you how, for if I ever tried to explain it, my words evaporate and I am unable to speak. Then something even worse happens. The others can't speak of it either—or won't, I can't figure it out."

"But how am I to save you if I don't know what from!" I protested, "And, I don't know the first thing about magic." This was not the whole truth; my encounter with a fairy was just as good as anyone else's.

Adrian glanced at me in the flickering candlelight. "Things have already begun to change since you've arrived. I think it's time we prepare for what's ahead of us."

"Do you mean with what happened to Barney? I cannot help but think… think that it's really my fault. If we were destined to end up here, and now we have met, things should be getting better, not worse, right?" I felt like I was pleading with him, but he only looked at me with kind eyes.

"Belle," he replied, "I've learned that some things have to get worse before they get better. You just have to believe in it."

_Of course. Of course._

I fell silent, contemplative. Then more questions began to stream through my mind;

"Where is the Enchantress now?"

Adrian's eyes seemed to darken, though of course it had to be the flickering shadows. "She could be anywhere. I haven't seen her in a while. She would visit the castle regularly after kidnapping me. I would try to hide from her, but the only place I could do so was in the tower. I never found out why she thinks I'm so special, using me for whatever her plans are. I'm not a prince. I lived in a cabin in the woods with my mother when the Enchantress found me."

I noticed again that Adrian was wearing gloves. It took a moment for what he said to sink in. I couldn't even comprehend it at first.

"They can't be," I murmured, confused.

Adrian took a long swig from his cask, emptying it. "I believe they are somewhat dead, victims too of the Enchantress. I have vowed to save them. It's a secret, though—between me and you. I fear what may happen if they were to confront their own mortality."

I hadn't known them long, but tears filled my eyes and I promptly blinked them back. Belle doesn't cry.

"The Enchantress must think you're a prince," I noted aloud.

Adrian nodded.

"Why does she keep you here? Do you know anything else about her?"

"I know she's planning something—and it's not good. I fear this purgatory—this extended imprisonment, however good I have made of it, will not end well for me. As I said, I cannot leave. It will take some serious counter magic to battle her and whatever she has been planning all these years."

I sat back, my head was whirring. "There must be something about you that's terribly important."

Adrian shrugged. "If there is, I don't know what it could be. Anyways, what about you? I saw you in the pool, and here you are at last. I think there is something we have in common, something that is up to us to unearth"

My eyes flickered to Adrian's gloved hands.

_We both hide things._

"Maybe I should look into the pool," I suggested.

"I'm afraid she'll see you," he immediately replied, "the magical nature of the pool… it's a tool for fairies. If she finds you, Belle, this could all be over before it has even started."

"We can't just sit around here and wait for something to happen," I argued, growing irritable at the lack of answers.

Adrian ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, his fingers lingering near his forehead, as if to help him think. I shifted towards him silently, unthreateningly.

I gazed at him for only a second—but I took in the image of my prince, remembering all those times I had thought about him, held within my own prison. Going to the market every day, tending the garden, scrubbing the floors, feigning tea with the "nobles"—all those times he had been there, with me, my invisible companion who was barely more than just that: a dream. And here we were, at last, true strangers.

I reached for one of his gloved hands. Adrian instinctually drew it away. "You have nothing to fear," I said sincerely, kindly, just as he would to me. I reached for his hand again and locked it in with my own.

There were fireflies looming about in the willow vines. The silvery glow of the moon cast itself softly between the branches overhead. The light from our lanterns slowly began to dim.

"There are scars," his voice was quiet and unsure, as if he had never spoken of this before.

Keeping hold of his wrist, I gently slipped the glove off his hand.

His fingers were dark against the fading lanterns; I traced my own fingers over his scars, studying the smooth imperfections that ran from him wrist to his knuckles. As if he had been attacked by some beast with fierce claws.

"The Enchantress did this to you," I said softly. I knew without him having to tell me. I thought of the many small scars that dotted my own body from Lorna's abuse and cruelty. They were nothing compared to the scars that I had inside—and it was there that a new feeling was born, as I held Adrian's hand within my own, a fierceness that I had never felt before.

Adrian cocked his head, peering at me with a little half smile.

As we made our way back to the castle, we talked about growing up.

"When I first came here, I couldn't even begin to understand all the secrets hidden within the castle," Adrian explained as we picked our way through the tall grass. He had put his gloves back on before leaving. "And the paintings in the halls gave me nightmares, some of them at least."

My mind returned to that painting I had come across of two fairies; one light, one dark. I wondered if the images held within where enough to evoke fear in a child. It had certainly evoked something in me.

"Once I found the library—my mother had taught me to read when I was only three—I took solace in the stories and read every day and every night to quell the fear of the Enchantress returning. I still read every day; there are more books in that room than I'll ever be able to read in this lifetime."

"How funny," I returned with delight, "I too grew up with a library that my parents built for me, and I'd spend many days and nights devouring the stories until there were none left. I feel as if some of my best memories are within those texts."

He turned to me, grinning, "Well then, my library is now yours too and you may visit it and borrow from it whenever you like. My quarters are connected to the library so you'll find me in there quite often."

"Oh, do you mean it?" I asked.

"Of course I do. Besides, you are the Mistress. Everything in the castle is just as much yours as it is mine, now."

"Even the curse?"

Adrian paused. "That, I think, I will keep for myself."

It was the first and last time we would ever laugh about it.

We paid a visit to the hospital wing together before retiring for the night. Barney still lay silent, as if asleep in his bed.

Adrian put his ear to Barney's heart and listened for a few moments before raising his head in defeat. "Maybe tomorrow will bring better news."

"If they are already dead," I said in barely a whisper, "how could this be happening?"

"They are bound to the enchantment of this castle. It is possible the enchantment is coming undone. I expect the Enchantress will arrive once she senses this." The dark circles under Adrian's eyes were more prominent in the lighting of the hospital wing. I could see the stress and despair all over his face, in the way that he spoke and moved—but when he looked at me, all traces of that vanished.

To be believed in, ah, what a great and terrible thing.


	19. Chapter 19

I had been at this castle now for seven days. I answered to _Belle_, or _Mistress_. It was liberating; talking to others who seemed genuinely interested in the things I had to say—and no one ever, ever, gave me orders or tried to hurt me in any way. And finally the nightmares I suffered from began to fade.

But I looked in the mirror and I still saw Mary, my familiar image lingering before me, haunting me. I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom as the morning sun streamed in, casting a halo upon my head.

_Mary._

But inside I was not Mary. Inside, I was getting better. Better than Mary ever was or could be; I would stand up for myself. I would find a way out now, always. I was free from Lorna- and Belle did not know Lorna.

And she did not kill her.

I finished buttoning up a light white dress I had pulled from my closet. I tied my hair back with a white ribbon. We were to spend the day outside—everyone! A tourney was taking place, upon the terrace, of archery and sword play. I knew Adrian was eager to test me. I pulled down one of the swords from the mantle like I had done when Adrian attacked me and modeled the correct way to hold it before heading downstairs.

The garden was flooded with excitement: brightly painted targets, about a half dozen or so, were set up upon the lawn and paralleled with the castle servants clutching great bows and sending volleys towards them. A large space near the archery tourney was set up for sword play, and as I approached there was many a glinting and clashing of metal in the morning sun. Others meandered about between both areas, chattering, cheering, playing flutes or singing songs. I marveled about the sight of it all—how brave were these people, that they continued to celebrate despite the looming fear.

I sought Adrian's face among the crowd—after all, we were supposed to be looking after each other. He was wielding a sword in the center of the tourney area, sparring with an opponent, his moves swift and quick as lightning, his swinging sword flashing the sunlight in every direction. Intrigued, I stepped closer, watching him as he blocked every hit, parrying his opponent on light feet. He was so skilled in fighting that I wondered how I ever managed to evade him before.

_He didn't truly intend to kill you. Only frighten._

I thought back to how I overhead Matilde saying that it was he who rescued me the night I came here. He had pulled me inside, carried me to the hospital wing and stayed with me all night, willing me to live. My heart skipped a beat when I pictured his worry; never more than strangers, but bound together by some unshakable feeling. Maybe he'd always been the one to rescue me, and I him.

The crowd around me erupted in a grand and excited applause as Adrian's opponent stumbled backwards, unguarded and defeated. There were no hard feelings here, nor any true competition; Adrian helped the servant up and they exchanged encouraging words, grinning and moving on to the next round. That's when he noticed me—our eyes meeting across the small arena. He was out of breath, panting and flushed but looking much more relaxed than the night before in the hospital wing. Today he was not wearing all black; a loose white blouse was tucked into brown pants and black boots, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows revealing lean, unscarred arms. His hair hung windswept as the morning breeze offered respite from the heat of the sunlight.

As soon as he noticed me standing in the crowd, Adrian was at my side, pulling me into the arena. I struggled briefly before I realized it was too late.

"I'd like to know you can defend yourself," he began, looking me up and down thoughtfully, "what have you got there? Is that sword from the wall?"

"Yes," I replied with confidence.

Adrian snickered. "You can't defend yourself with that. It's a decoration. Here," we traded swords, "practice with mine."

He tested me with a few whacks and I successfully blocked them, though his sword was quite heavy and my movement was graceless. I could feel a hundred eyes on me as we halfly sparred; Adrian's in particular bore into mine, becoming increasingly attentive.

"What do you expect?" I finally said, out of breath with arms sore from the weight of the blows, "I've never had to fight with a sword before."

"I think you're a good fighter," he responded, to my surprise, "but you will need a lot of practice. I can help you."

"Can the Enchantress be fought with a sword?"

"I intend to fight her in any way possible. Let's start with how you position your feet. Put one foot in front of the other, that way you are prepared to move either forward or back at a half moment's notice."

I did as he suggested, and found that my defense was stronger. Adrian was patient as we sparred for some time, critiquing me as needed and playing up my strengths. After I was sure I could no longer hold up the sword, we agreed to take a break.

Time passed like a dream.

Upon the noon came my lesson in archery, for which Adrian was less skilled. He joked with me that I'd have to be the one to cover his back while he fights, me with an arrow and him with a sword. Somehow I couldn't picture myself defending anyone with a bow and arrow.

The tourneys yielded winners as they stretched into the evening with all the merriment in the world; it was decided there was to be a celebratory feast taking place that very night. We had spent the entire day outside in play and my skin was tanned by the sun. All day I had been with Adrian; we sparred, growing increasingly competitive, we ate among the castle servants and enjoyed the competitions and talked to each other like old friends. As we parted, Matilde whisked me off to my room and made a fuss about preparing me for dinner. It was to be a feast even grander than my welcome party.

The dining hall was ornamented in silver and gold. Plates suited for the highest of royalty adorned the long table, resplendent in all manner of food and drink. I had not dressed so grandly since the ball, where I had my glass slippers and rose dress gifted to me by my fairy godmother. Tonight, I wore a golden dress fashioned after a queen. My skirt was wide and flowing, the sleeves hanging off my shoulders with careless elegance. A simple pair of slippers I wore with this, and my hair was half pulled up and cascaded down my back in loose brown waves. When Adrian entered, he was wearing a brilliant blue coat over a white shirt with golden designs imprinted upon it. His hair was slicked back away from his face, revealing his strong and angular cheeks and jaw bone. He really was quite handsome.

The music struck up upon my second glass of wine. Adrian took my hand and we walked to the center of the open space of the dining room encircled by the towering garden windows.

"I understand that this is a strange place… Since you've arrived, it's only gotten stranger. I beg you to tell me truly if you are happy here." His voice was just high enough for only me to hear him.

"I am," I responded immediately, looking up at him honestly. "But I do intend to get you out of here."

He grinned, his smile brilliant. "It certainly will be one hell of a fight. For whatever will come to pass, I'm glad we've at least made it this far."

_How far I have made it, indeed._

"Thank you for saving me, by the way," I said. "The night I came here. "

He perceived me with what seemed to be a hint of sadness in his eyes, but he offered me a reassuring smile. Then, he reached out towards me and gently and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

A long moment passed and we didn't speak, though I had become aware of my hand in his, our skin connecting us in the most minute but significant way. The heat of the dining room was beginning to overwhelm me, but instead of opting to step outside, I grabbed another glass of wine. Adrian did the same. And we danced.

What a familiar scene! The flowing of wine, laughter, and music. Only this time I wore gold, and a heavy burden sat upon my shoulders, invisible to everyone except me. Adrian sensed it, though. I caught him peering at me at times when I looked away, as if he could find the answers on my face. How could he find answers that I myself did not have?

_Who am I?_

"Lady Belle," he said towards the end of the night, "I hope to find you tomorrow just as I did today. I wish we could spend every day and night like this."

The room was sparkling, bright, and a blur of colors and a haze of murmurs and music. At the end of it, all I could see was Adrian. It could've been the wine, or it could've just been me; I think I almost kissed him.

He walked me to my room in the dead of the night, as the castle fell silent and dark and sleepy ghosts found their beds. His arm wrapped around my waist, his words in my ears. How perfect something had never been in my life before!

I turned toward him as we stood at the foot of the tower.

"I don't care what you say," I declared, "to me, you are a prince."

"And you," he replied with stormy eyes, "are a vision."

I knew then the night was over.

Had I ever slept so soundly?

* * *

The morning brought on a silence that I awoke to, one unsettling in its stillness. Just the night before, the castle had been full of joyous sounds. Today, the sun that normally streamed through my window was grey and blocked by an array of heavy clouds stretching out into the horizon. I dressed and made my way to the hospital wing.

Barney lay still in his bed; the room was deserted. I said a quick prayer over him before making my way down to the kitchen, which too, was strangely deserted.

"Matilde?" I summoned her aloud. I stood in the middle of the vast and spotless kitchen alone and growing increasingly concerned.

At last, a rushing of footsteps could be heard coming my way from the corridor outside. Matilde entered, out of breath. "There you are," she breathed, her voice strained, "Mistress Belle, I beg you to return to your room. The Master is—well, he-"

"What is it?" My heart thudded hard in my chest as anxiety numbed my fingers. I knew immediately that something was not right. "Has something happened?"

Matilde wrapped her strong arms around me and ushered me into the hallway, back towards my tower. "Forgive me," she said, "forgive me."

"What is it!" I exclaimed, wriggling out of her grasp, "you must tell me! You're scaring me!"

"Please, I cannot make you understand! You will be safe in your-"

"Safe?! Where is Adrian? Tell me at once!"

That's when I heard it: a terrible, guttural cry of pain that echoed through the hall and straight to my panicked ears. The cry of a man. One like I had never heard before.

_Adrian._

I didn't think; I took off down the hall towards the direction I heard the cry come from. If it was the Enchantress, I would face her unarmed, as I was. It was my task to protect Adrian, and there was no time to hesitate. Matilde called after me as I ran from her, but I paid her no attention.

The cry sounded again, and I dashed through the castle. My feet moved in a blur beneath me.

As I drew nearer, I turned a corner and ran directly into Louis, who stood in front of a tall door, hastily locking it with a heavy iron key.

"Where is he? Where is Adrian?" I asked him frantically.

Louis perceived me with great surprise, his mouth agape with a loss of words.

I heard the cry once more from behind the door. It was coming from inside the room. I made for the handle, seizing it forcibly, but the door was locked.

"Open it!" I demanded.

"You mustn't, Lady Belle," Louis said urgently, "I beg you to walk away!"

I drew myself up to my full height as my mind raced. Louis did not protest as I took the key and unlocked the door. Pushing the heavy door open, I stepped inside.

It was the library. The most fantastic library I had ever beheld—several stories high, books covering every inch of wall and shelf, which of there were many, a room of such grandeur that out suited even this castle. But none of this mattered at the moment; Adrian was indeed there, double over upon the floor, writhing and seemingly clawing at the floor.

I approached him cautiously, for this was not the Adrian I knew and there was no Enchantress in sight. He wore a black shirt in his normal midnight garb, his hair loose around his face and neck.

"What's wrong?" I asked him as I drew nearer.

His gaze switched my way, a wild expression taking over his normally handsome features. The veins upon his neck were bulging out against his skin; he swallowed hard as he saw me, and shook his head.

"Belle," he gasped, his hands balling into tight fists, "please, you must run!" As if being struck upon his back by a ruthless whip, he jolted and threw his head back and shrieked.

I was on my knees at his side, attempting to help him up. "You—you have to tell me what's going on, how can I help-" I reached for his hand and was met with a sharp pain; suddenly, a deep scratch across my palm was welling with crimson blood. I gasped and withdrew my wounded hand to realize too late that the scars upon Adrian's hands were beginning to morph; his slender fingers becoming devilish and mighty claws, like that of a terrible creature.

_A beast._

His eyes met mine, a pair of untamed, raging eyes that I had not before recognized. They pleaded with me only for a moment before hardening as Adrian became something…else.

His arms began to bulk as he threw himself back onto the floor, gasping and growling. A ripping of fabric signified that he was growing in size, his back widening and his spine tearing through his shirt. The next time our eyes met, he let out a dreadful roar. Initially I had frozen, captivated by this horrific metamorphosis. But now I was afraid.

Adrian withered away before me and was being replaced by a monster, a violent, raging monster.

Finally, I did as Adrian had told me to do; I turned and ran.

The beast roared again, and as I passed through the doorway I could hear a thunderous crashing behind me, as if several towering shelves of books had been ripped down upon the floor. I slammed the heavy door shut behind me to find a deserted hall way stretched out before me. Louis had gone, there was no one else.

I pushed my feet as fast as they could take me down the corridor, looking for an escape. The beast was now beating upon the door, its echoes following me.

I had just rounded the corner when I heard the grand door burst open, and now the Beast was after me. It was a full on pursuit.

I bounded through the castle until I reached the front room, where Adrian had first pulled me inside and saved me from the hungry jaws of the forest wolves. The Beast was still following, for I heard its snarls ever behind me, its anger smashing everything in sight. With shaking hands I opened the front door of the castle and rushed down the stone steps that led to the vine covered gate. I stole a glance behind me as I fled down the path to the gate, and as I made it through I saw the entirety of hat Adrian had become:

The Beast was a creature of multitudes, all ferocious and powerful. He was covered in a heavy shag of fur, his savage eyes set beneath a strong brow upon a frightening, animal like face—and there, too, were fangs bared. He stood tall and hulking, covered in shredded bits of clothing and fur, brandishing his demon claws made for the ripping and tearing of flesh. As he stood poised in the doorway, I paralleled him at the gate, agape in terror.

With another threatening howl from the Beast, I tore back into the woods from which I came, willing myself to move faster to get as far away as possible from this demon. Unsure if I was still being followed, I ran and ran until the point of no return. My hand bled and throbbed at my side, but there seemed not enough time to put the rightful amount of distance between the Beast and I before I could tend to it.

Back through the thick brush of the woods I travelled, blinded with fear. At last I had found the main path of which I was sure my carriage had been abandoned, but as I paused, catching my breath upon the road and wiping my bleeding hand across my skirt, another surprise was to meet me here.

"At last, Mary has finally come out of her hiding place." A cruel voice sounded from behind me. I whipped around to see none other than Lord Terrowin, tall and villainous, standing just a couple of feet from me.

I shook my head in utter disbelief. "No…" I breathed, backing away from him.

His smile revealed his long and pointed teeth. He lunged toward me in a flash, seizing me by my arms and gagging me with a cloth.

_There is something out there, in the woods_, Adrian had said only a few days ago. And I had fallen right into its trap.


	20. Chapter 20

What is the Beast's purpose?

I cannot say. But the Beast is capable of _unspeakable_ things and I am tied to him. I guess I _am_ him, in a way.

When I woke up upon the lawn, my head still contained the thoughts of the Beast. I could see the usual things; the interior of Blackhill streaming past me like the chaos of a nightmare, and then the twisted woods too—for as the Beast, I could leave the castle. But only as the Beast. This time I could also see Belle… but only for a moment. It was the moment I turned. Belle is the one thing I truly had to look after—the one thing I thought I could protect. And how careless a mistake I have made.

So this is how it goes:

There's an itch. It could start anywhere; a simple, nameless itch. I had absentmindedly grazed a spot across my brow this last time.

Next comes the racing of my heart, an inexplicable surge of adrenaline that makes me feel like I'm falling, falling further and further away from reality. This is when I realize what is going on.

I can hear the beating of a drum. It is subdued, however over time it grows quite loud- deafening, even; _bum, bum, bum. Bum, bum, bum. _It's the Beast's mantra. It exists only in my head.

And then there's pain as my body begins to contort and transform. The worse pain pulses through my hands, where the scars are. The world around me turns shades darker and the noises of the drum are heightened until I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a raging battle. This is what I perceive in my last moments of consciousness. Before I give in to the Beast.

Like I'm returning from the fiery pits of Hell itself, my skin is on fire and I have to wait for the heat to subside. Normally Matilde would have a bath tub full of ice ready for me; today she met me on the lawn, her face wrought with despair. Belle was gone.

I had not turned that way before. In fact, normally I would only turn once every fortnight; I would turn if I attempted to leave the castle grounds; I would turn if I tried to explain my curse aloud; and I would turn whenever the Enchantress willed it. In other words, this occasion was horribly unexpected.

There was no time to talk. I knew what was waiting for her in the woods—I had perceived his darkness in my Beast form, and I could sense his hunger as he searched for her. No doubt his wish would soon be fulfilled. As soon as I could stand, my legs took me running up to the room where I kept my raven- the black bird I had rescued many years ago when I found him injured in one of the towers. He was smart, and he knew how to deliver messages and return them—at least around the castle. I was now depending upon him to deliver a note to Belle.

I felt like I was going to be sick, playing images of Belle, captured, through my mind. There was no doubt within me that whoever it was that lurked in the woods had now found her. It was a long shot that the note would reach her safely, and an even less likely that I could get her back to the castle with success, in Beast form at least...

But you have to protect what matters and you can't let anything stand in the way of that.

Don't worry, Belle, I am coming after you.

* * *

"So you want to know something about fate?"

His breath was the stink of stale bread and tobacco. I could feel it upon my ear as he spoke, and I wanted to tremble, but a part of me knew better than to show fear.

I shifted slightly in my prison of tied rope as Lord Terrowin circled around me in the shadows of his darkened tent—a tent fowled with stench of blood and animal carcasses. He leaned in close to me, his eyes glinting with excitement, "I'm willing to make you a deal."

The man had hunted me.

And after dragging me to his temporary camp, he revealed to me one of the glass slippers I had left behind. It was all he had needed to follow my trail. The fairy's gift had been more wicked than I could ever imagine.

"I will not be your wife!" I had screamed, lashing out at him until he overcame me with the ropes, binding my hands together by the wrists—so tight, I could feel bruises. I repeated it, over and over again.

"I do not need a wife," he finally hissed, his bony fingers wrapped around my arms in a savage grip. The cane he had used at the ball was now gone; he wore hunter's clothes and had a dark powder smeared across his face. His piercing gold eye's shown like a serpent's. "I need a _Beast_."

I fell silent, as now I was truly afraid. It was painful to reimagine what Adrian had become. I was just trying to protect him—but there was no way I could save him from that. I could barely save myself.

"I don't understand," I insisted.

Lord Terrowin ran his thumb lightly across my cheek, and then over my lips.

"You do," he replied, "You know what I seek. It is uncommonly valuable. Such a trophy would serve me in more way than one."

"Do you mean to kill it?" I could hardly stomach the answer. I knew that that Beast, however terrible, held Adrian inside it somehow. He was cursed to be what he had become.

"Killing it right away would not be wise. But having it in my possession is the real challenge. That's how you will help me." Lord Terrowin lit a candle, casting minimal light upon the heads of all the forest creatures he had slayed, mounted on a rack like pantry items. There were wolves, deer, boars, elk—and even two horses. I could feel bile rise to my throat at the sight of them. They were my father's horses.

"And then," Lord Terrowin mused, running his hand through the decapitated wolf's shaggy fur, "after I have claimed my prize, maybe I will find a place for you too."

I thought back to how Lorna had said I would be going to the country to meet this man. How he needed a wife, and they had struck up a deal so he could claim me. Then he was at the ball, where he had tried to take me as his ward. And now I was his prisoner in a manner that I could not have envisioned. This went far beyond what I knew I understood. Somehow he knew about Adrian, and of my connection to him. This is how I suspected he knew even more than that.

"What deal do you speak of?" I finally asked, controlling the tone of my voice to sound unafraid.

His smile was toothy and animal like. He grabbed a stool and pulled it up beside me, plopping down upon it and lighting a pipe. He enjoyed it for a few long moments before returning his attention to me.

"You confide in fairies," he stated.

I did not answer.

"There is something you know about magic. You do not speak of it because you are scared. There is no need; I know more about you than even you do, presently. But word to the wise, fair Mary—you put your trust in the wrong fairy. This one in particular has abilities beyond even my own—and I am very, very, skilled in sorcery. The object of magic I need, however, is too dangerous to attain on my own."

"You speak of the Beast."

"Yes," he replied with a grin. The tent was filling up with the smoke from his pipe. It somehow masked the stench of the rotting animals. "That same fairy you trust so much with your fate has led you directly here. That creature you ran from—it is of her creation. And what's more? That creature will come looking for you."

I was becoming confused. Did he really imply that my fairy godmother had cursed Adrian? She was nothing but pure and kind—she had known my mother—she had rescued me from Lorna. She was not the same person as the Enchantress, who was responsible for Adrian's curse. Lord Terrowin was misinformed, and I secretly noted that to my advantage.

"You are unwittingly playing a role on behalf of powers above you. That is what we know of fate—but there is more I could tell you, should you desire to step out of this role. I'm afraid it will not end well for you if you move forward. This is where I can help you. But first, I need the Beast." Lord Terrowin perceived me with darkened eyes; I could feel him willing me to concede. His words remained yet unpersuasive, for I did not trust them.

"The fairy did mention something about my fate," I offered hesitantly, "but she also said once I made a certain decision I would be freed from it. And so I did, and so every step I take is of my own doing."

Again, Lord Terrowin smiled. "What was the decision, Miss Mary?"

_To kill Lorna._

"To run away. And I did. And I'm still not done."

He looked away, laughing. He did not believe me. "You are doomed unless you help me. I will make it as plain as I can. Help me draw this Beast here, and I will free you from the trap you are walking blindly towards. It is a fair offer."

"What do you know about my fate?" I asked, anger rising in my chest. "This is the first time we've ever spoken. I am certain you are lying. A man who lurks in the woods and slays innocent animals for reckless gain holds no legitimacy in my eyes." The ropes around my wrists tightened their vice like grip as I spoke, though Lord Terrowin remained perched on his stool.

"I do not need you to agree," Lord Terrowin decided aloud, "for the Beast will come looking for you whether or not you aid him in doing so. And he will find you, for I will make it easy. But to refuse my offer is only detrimental to your, erm, _fate_. I would've liked to help you, for we share a great and terrible foe. But it will be as you decide, for you are so sure _your_ decisions are the best."

"This foe," I said slowly, "you mean to say is my fairy godmother? The one who you believe created the Beast?"

"Severa," he replied, his voiced hushed as he spoke her name, "you have been greatly deceived by her. I will say no more about it. You have made your choice. But the Beast would give me the power I need to rise above her—and all else who attempt to confront me. Fear not, Mary. Your part in this will soon come to an end. The Beast will probably kill you. Or worse." He arose from his perch and departed the tent, leaving me ensnared among the ropes. I sat in a silence so hollow I could almost feel it.

I could only allow myself to believe everything he said was a lie. Certainly he was a sorcerer of some nature, but he too was a manipulator and everything he said was for the purpose of getting me to agree to his wishes. I would not agree to betray Adrian. I had dreamt of him all my life. He was the only thing I knew to be real.

After what seemed like forever alone in the tent, Lord Terrowin returned.

"I've nearly completed the trap. It's in need of but one final thing." He said by way of greeting, stooping down over my and dragging me up by the ropes I was tied to. He took me outside, where a light rain fell upon the small clearing in the woods.

_He means me. He is using me as bait._

"It's just a short walk away. I will give you that amount of time to change your mind. I do not know when we will meet again, unless you survive this. Really such a shame, we could've been great together." His words now burned as he pulled me through the trees. The dark powder on his face began to smear away from the rain. He was a demon leading me to death. Adrian would be next.

And so I despaired.


	21. Chapter 21

Why do people enjoy the rain so much? I do not understand it. Yes, it is beautiful sometimes the way it comes down. That much is the truth. But I'm always getting rained on, and I still don't like the way it feels.

Lord Terrowin led me to another clearing, some distance from his own camp. As we approached I noticed leaning against a large tree was a grand bow, with a strong set of arrows, twice the size of normal arrows, accompanying it. He was a sorcerer, and a hunter. His skills went hand in hand—and what a deadly combination that was, I realized quickly.

He untied me here, and instructed me to stand in the center of the clearing. If I tried to run, I would be met with an arrow. I did not wish to contend with him.

I was to stand there in the open, Lord Terrowin told me, for he knew exactly how to draw the Beast in this way. Once the Beast entered the clearing, the arrow would turn from me to him.

"How are you so sure the Beast is even after me?" I questioned before he ascended the tree to gain his position.

The sorcerer narrowed his eyes. "I've encountered this prophecy. I know what your role is. Don't try to run, or I will just shoot."

Once he was up in the tree, I couldn't see him at all. I stood in the clearing, frantically trying to think of a way out of this. Any moment the Beast could appear, and it would be over for him.

A monstrous rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, making me jump. This light rain would soon be a storm. If a storm hit, I might be able to escape. The sky would darken, and my scent would be lost—I could just run, and run, and run. I knew I could get away if I ran my fastest.

There was a crowing in the distance. I looked up, my face bearing to the sky to perceive a hundred shadows; there was a tremendous flock of birds swooping over the clearing, emerging from an overhead cloud like blood spilling from an open wound. I watched them in awe as they descended, coming closer to the clearing in the woods. I looked over to where I knew Lord Terrowin was positioned in the tree; all I saw was a tree. My gaze returned to the sky—the birds were swooping down towards me. Suddenly, as if in an instant, they were all around me.

I dropped to my knees, holding my head beneath my arms to protect myself as they swarmed; they were a dark, chattering blanket blowing in the wind. I felt nothing but the whooshing of air over me as they passed, and within the commotion, to my greatest surprise, was delivered a letter. It thudded to the ground before me, and as I stole a confused glance at it, I suddenly beheld Adrian's familiar seal. It had been carried among the birds, who now flew towards the big tree Lord Terrowin occupied, encircling it within their dark grasp.

I snatched up the letter and tore it open, my eyes reading faster than I could conceive.

_I think you understand now what I could not tell you before. Please trust me that I will not hurt you. I will lead you back to Blackhill as the Beast. Then we will meet again safely._

_I am so sorry for this._

The birds ornamented the tree in a roaring cacophony. Lord Terrowin was certainly preoccupied with their presence—there was no way he'd be able to see me through the chaos they ensued.

As I turned to make way for the woods again, before I lost my chance—surely Adrian was ready for me, wherever he was—I stopped in my tracks as Prince Stefan entered the clearing on foot. He was just as I had seen him last, princely and charming, dressed in richly tailored hunting clothes and flanked by two men with crossbows.

"Mary!" he exclaimed, running to meet me in the clearing. He was out of breath, and seemed very surprised to see me—almost as surprised as I was to see him. There was a sword at his side; he seemed to be in the middle of some kind of hunt. I could even hear the barking of dogs in the distance.

I felt relief and panic all at once. How happy I was to meet with him again, but the circumstances couldn't have been less desirable.

"Stefan," I said urgently, "this is a dangerous place—you and your men must go-"

"Are you alright? Has the necromancer hurt you? What has happened to your hand and wrists?"

"How did you know—he, he's in that tree—with the birds, and he has a bow! He will shoot you if he sees you!"

Stefan stole a furious glance at the tree I indicated, and nodded to his men, who trotted over in its direction, sending a furious volley of arrows in their wake.

"You are safe now," he said quickly, undoing his hunting cloak and draping it around my shoulders. "I've been looking for you for days, and we've been on the sorcerer's trail. I knew he had gone after you—why didn't you tell me you were in trouble?"

"_You're_ in trouble!" I replied hurriedly, "I don't have time to explain. Please, just try to get as far away from here as fast as you can-"

There was a roaring in the distance. It echoed through the woods from a short ways away. I shuddered as I heard it, and Stefan simultaneously drew his sword.

"It's not what you think," I said, as Stefan began calling for his men.

Six kingsmen emerged from the trees, all armed and hurrying towards us with a host of dogs and horses. Just as I spotted them, a mortal cry sounded from where the two crossbow men had pursued Lord Terrowin; one had been shot in the chest with an arrow, and in the chaos, the flock of birds retreated into the sky just as quickly as they had come.

Stefan looked to me, "I have been hoping all this time that you were free and unharmed. Please, go with my men. They will make sure you can make it back to the kingdom safely. I will take care of the necromancer." With a brave face and a brandished sword, Stefan took off towards Lord Terrowin's hiding place.

I called after him: don't go there. Please don't go there.

And then entered the Beast.

He came from the furthest side of the clearing, appearing as terrible and savage as before. The kingsmen balked at the sight of him, and even Stefan was stopped in his tracks as the Beast snarled at the scene before him, his teeth and claws bared for battle.

_Adrian_, I thought, _I know you're in there. And I trust you._

"What devil creature is this-" Stefan began to say, turning in apprehension, when one of Lord Terrowin's arrows whizzed out from the tree and shot him in his upper back. He was startled only for a moment, before crumpling to the ground.

"Stefan!" I shrieked, and my feet began to move towards him, but Lord Terrowin dropped out of the tree with his bow and the Beast was suddenly there, intercepting us.

The Beast was twice the size of the tall sorcerer; his movements were impossibly quick. In one swift motion, the Beast charged Lord Terrowin as he drew an arrow from his quiver and made to shoot. On the other side of them, the kingsmen rushed to Stefan's side, pulling him up onto a horse. I couldn't tell how bad his wound was, but I knew he was hurt. The Beast also met Lord Terrowin's arrow, but his aim was flawed in his hurry and it only grazed the Beast's side.

Lord Terrowin was knocked to the ground, fresh claw marks welling up beneath his sleeve. He cried out beneath the Beast's fury, and frantically scrambled away. Things did not go as he had planned.

I don't know what the Beast would've done next; all I knew at the time was I needed to somehow reach Adrian.

"Beast!" I cried, staring him down with suppressed terror, "Stop!"

Upon hearing my voice, the Beast hesitated in his tracks. He was standing over the pale and cowering Lord Terrowin, ready to tear him apart. I stared at the Beast, facing him with vulnerability.

_It's me, Adrian. Come to me._

The Beast gazed at me, falling silent and curious. The expression in his eyes was one I was familiar with. There was no doubt Adrian was inside, and he could hear me.

The horse Stefan had been lifted upon took off into the woods at a dash with three of the kingsmen. The remaining circled Lord Terrowin as the Beast slowly made his way over to me. I watched as they seized the man, his struggles no match for their numbers.

_It is time for us to escape now_, I thought as I locked eye contact with the Beast, willing him to understand. The Beast blinked, and howled into the air.

Two kingsmen disappeared into the woods, Lord Terrowin now their prisoner. He had been easily subdued without his advantage. The three remaining men began to close in on the Beast, their intention to rescue me from what they believed to be a gruesome end. The smallest of the trio hurled a stone his way, and the Beast smashed it in the air with a heart stopping roar.

It was all the men could take; they took off running after their company, swearing obscenities in terror.

With a triumphant glance towards me, the Beast then too rushed into the forest, though heading the opposite direction. I knew I was meant to follow him.

He bounded through the woods, creating a path for me to follow in his wake. I pursued him through the winding and darkening forest until I lost sight of him—though the path was quite clear. After a difficult trek through, I finally discovered Blackhill looming above the trees with its darkened towers stretching high into the misty clouds. I hurried back up the stone steps to the front door, and it was there that Adrian met me.

Without a word, he took me into his arms and kissed me on the lips.


	22. Chapter 22

The next few days passed slowly. I watched the sun move over the sky with a foreign feeling in my heart. My encounter with Lord Terrowin had left me with so many questions, and to my greatest fortune, Adrian did not mention the confrontation. He, too, seemed to be intensely occupied in his mind.

As I returned to Blackhill after our brief and perilous interlude, there was something different now between Adrian and I. We were… triumphant, and felt so stupid for feeling it. We had not yet won, but only just began to front our intricacies. The scene of Stefan falling to the ground, wounded by Lord Terrowin's arrow also haunted me. He was hurt and it was my fault—a prospect I could hardly stomach. I didn't mean for that to happen, nor did I even realize he had been looking for me. But seeing him had brought me back to who I was before I had come to Blackhill, if only for just one second. And that too, I could not stomach.

Adrian cared for me himself, bandaging my cut hand in the hospital wing as we whispered next to the unresponsive, seemingly sleeping Barney. The dark circles under his eyes were a stark contrast to his drained complexion, but he seemed strong and healthy. Adrian refused to allow Matilde to fuss over him, even as she fought to bandage the cut on his side.

That night, as my candle was burning low and my thoughts began to subside to dreams, there was a sharp, rapid tapping upon my window. Jolted awake by the sudden sound, I immediately investigated; it was a raven bird. It carried in its talons a folded letter, and was signaling for me to retrieve it.

_The bird among the flock._

"What's this?" I asked it, freeing the letter from its grasp. The bird flew away without response. Returning to my bedroom, I reignited the candle and beheld Adrian's familiar scrawl.

_Meet me in the uncharted tower. _

I slipped into some boots, remaining in my nightgown as I set down the stone spiral steps and made my way across the darkened castle, passing all of the haunting paintings with just the light of my candle. I stopped again in front of the one with the two fairies and gazed at it once more. I don't know why I was so drawn to it. It reminded me of nothing and everything at once. I quietly stepped away.

Adrian sat in the window of the tower, the wind blowing softly at his back. I joined him upon the window sill, setting the flickering candle down in between us.

He looked to me. "Lady Belle,"

"Master Adrian."

"It's you," he said, his green eyes alight with excitement, "You are the answer to breaking my curse."

"So I've heard," I assured him.

"When we met in the clearing, I found that I was somewhat capable of maintaining my human thoughts. That has never happened in Beast form before. You have to understand how incredibly important this is." He held my hand up before him and met it with his own, the scars pale in the moonlight. "The pieces fit."

I blushed at the feeling of his fingers and palm pressed against my own, and withdrew my hand. "What does it mean? What am I to do?"

"I don't know," he answered with regret, "but what would you say to trying it again?"

I looked up at him in shock, "Do you mean change into the Beast?" I wasn't ready to face it again, yet.

Adrian clasped my hand securely in his and gazed at me intently. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, as if he were avoiding spying ears, "I know I can do this. And I know you can too. The only way I can leave here is if my curse stays behind."

"I understand," I agreed, "but how can you be so sure of this?"

Adrian smiled knowingly. "Were you not sure of me, when I took off my mask? Belle, we're a team now. I need your trust, and in exchange you have my solemn vow that I will not let anyone or anything ever hurt you."

I could feel butterflies flit across my stomach and into my heart at his words. "Adrian-" I slid off the window sill and began to pace steadily across the tower. "Here you are asking for my trust, and I truly don't deserve _yours._"

He abruptly stood. "I trust you more than anyone."

"You don't even know me." I said despairingly.

"I do," he said firmly, "I know it. You can tell me anything, Belle. I swear that too."

_My name is not Belle. And I killed someone. I feel like an impostor. I don't exist. I hate myself. I need help. I am scared. You make me brave-_

The thoughts were deafening and creating an unbearable pressure in my head. I thought I would buckle beneath the madness, but Adrian was already there, steadying me as I lost my footing. My mind fell silent as he gazed at me curiously.

"I don't mean to trouble you," he said softly. "All I meant to say was I am yours, and I will take care of you."

I could feel the tears in my throat, threatening to rise to my eyes and give me away for the coward that I was. I swallowed them back defiantly, for Belle doesn't cry.

"Look," he said gently, "look at my hands. They are covered in scars. I hid them from myself beneath gloves for years because every day they reminded me that I'd never be free. But then I saw your face, and now you're here. These scars don't matter anymore. And neither do yours."

_My scars._

Possibly, they were nothing compared to his. But every day I could feel them, feel them wanting to expose me- my insides writhed with the truth of who I was. I knew I could never tell him. With each passing day, I was becoming increasingly sure of it. Mary was dead. Belle is who I am.

And that, despite Lord Terrowin's cryptic manipulations, is how I came to realize that only I possess control of my future.

* * *

The candle had burned into a soft pile of wax on the floor between us as we talked quietly through the night.

"What will you do, once the curse is broken?" I asked him.

Adrian glanced at me with a half-smile, half-hearted, as if secretly the thought hurt. "I've always just intended to go home."

"Where is your home?" I couldn't believe I hadn't asked before.

"It's a distant place," he explained, "but I was born on an island. My mother raised me there—before, well, anyway it was a land where magic was practiced commonly, unlike it is here in this land. I loved it there. All I've ever wanted to do was just go back."

"Your home sounds familiar," I mused, "like something out of a story."

He looked over to me, "I'll show it to you, if you like."

I grinned.

"I want to see the entire world," I said after a long moment of silence. After years of being imprisoned in my step mother's home, I could never have fathomed during my time there that I would ever make it any amount of distance away.

We talked until our words faded into slumber, and the early morning sun began to rise and slip in through the window above us and Adrian and I were at last asleep, my head resting upon his shoulder.

* * *

Stefan awoke suddenly, his hair dampened with a feverish sweat and his blood pulsing rapidly through his veins. It was pain that had awoken him, a pain he had not thought to be real.

The wound in his back was not healing. It was three days prior that he had finally found Mary after searching the entirety of the woods for her—only to lose her again after being attacked by the necromancer.

_I had nearly saved her_, he thought to himself over and over again, _how could I have let this happen?_

When he arrived home wounded and unconscious, his father set the castle in a furious discord. Lord Terrowin was brought in, shackled by every limb, and thrown into the tightest cell of the dungeon. King Peter was already preparing an execution for him. The castle doctors were at Stefan's side at every hour, fighting against the terrible fever the wound he suffered from brought upon.

Now that he finally had the strength again to walk, despite the agony in his back, Stefan slipped into some robes and called for his guards to lead him downstairs to the dungeons. They reluctantly obeyed him, watching closely his every step in case he suddenly fell ill.

Stefan entered the dungeon alone, ordering his men to remain at the base of the stairs to wait for him. With a single torch, he made his way to the very back of the chamber. When he came upon Lord Terrowin's cramped cell, at first the light from his torch fell upon an eerily empty space.

"Show yourself," Stefan ordered.

Lord Terrowin emerged from the folds of darkness, his eyes gleaming gold in the light, casting dark shadows around his face. His stare was treacherous, but Stefan perceived him fearlessly. He knew he could get him to talk.

"Self-righteous prince, at last we meet. I've heard much about you," the sorcerer hissed.

"I've heard much about serpents," Stefan responded, holding his torch up to illuminate his face, "and I understand that the only way to kill them is to cut off their head."

Lord Terrowin's laughter was a repetitive wheezing, for much of the air had been previously knocked out of him by Stefan's guards. "You will ask me where the girl is. I know you've been searching for her. I saw the way you looked at her; I could give you answers. But I won't."

"Your one and only salvation lies in your confession," Stefan declared steadily, "I would kill you right now if you admitted to leading Mary to her death."

"Perhaps I did," the sorcerer conceded indifferently, "for no doubt the Beast ripped her to shreds."

Stefan swallowed hard as his heart dropped in his chest. "You will pay for this. Make no mistake of it. You will pay with the flesh of your blackened heart. I will rip it from your very chest if I find Mary has been hurt, or worse."

"It is fascinating, the way fate can shape someone," Lord Terrowin mused, blinking in the torch light, "there are none who truly examine themselves. They are but ants upon the ground, unaware of the universe around them. Indeed, why do you care for this girl? You don't know. You can't know. _You_ are powerless."

"You know nothing about me, necromancer," Stefan replied bitterly, "and you have the voice of a fool. Pity how you've wasted this valuable time with your feeble riddles— If you are to not confess, my father won't hesitate to have you executed." Stefan had never talked business this way to a man before. In fact, Lord Terrowin's words sank deep into his mind, freezing his insides.

"We can make a deal." The necromancer suggested suddenly, gripping the dungeon bars with ashen knuckles.

"You're better off not trying to make deals with me now. The only deal I am committing to is if Mary is hurt, than you will be hurt."

"I can lead you to the Beast."

Stefan clenched his teeth, gazing at his prisoner with menace.

The sorcerer rustled his chains as he tried to inch closer. "If you hunt the Beast, you will find the girl. Dead or alive."

It was his greatest fear that he was already too late. The wound he suffered prevented him from leaving the castle—it kept him feverish, and the pain refused to subside. It would be at least another few days before he could set out again, seeking Mary. One last time.

"I will find her myself," Stefan declared. "My company will have advantage of the Beast. In the meanwhile, you will rot here and prepare for the end of your time."

The necromancer again laughed his terrible wheezes. "Does it feel like you have something mortal festering inside of you?"

The prince froze at his words, regarding Lord Terrowin with an icy captivation.

"Because you do," Lord Terrowin's voice lowered to a wicked whisper, "The poison I put on my arrows have no cure. It is killing you, however slowly."

Stefan turned away from him, refuting his words with silence. He began to walk away.

"And the pain only gets worse! _You will die in agony_!" the sorcerer called after him, before breaking into a cacophonic shrieking laughter.

It was Lord Terrowin's first confession.

* * *

The afternoon sunlight fell through the forest leaves in shades of green and gold. I looked up at Blackhill, my head tilting back so I could try to see the uncharted tower from the ground. The sun shown behind it, casting a blinding glare into my eyes. I refocused my gaze to Adrian, who stood on the inside of the gate. The dark iron bars separated us, though the gate itself was unlocked. Adrian had only to cross over the enchantment's boundary in order to change into the Beast.

He seemed to shiver despite the sunlight, dressed in a simple blouse and pants with boots. He wore no mask or gloves. His eyes met mine with anticipation. The steady breeze around us cooled my neck. I willed myself to be brave.

"Are you sure you are ready?" he asked, breaking the silence of the forest.

I didn't allow myself a moment to think about it again. "I'm ready."

And so Adrian nodded, his expression determined as he stepped forward and over the line.


	23. Chapter 23

Adrian was right.

As I faced the Beast for the first time I was met with a feeling I had never felt before; power. He roared in my face, his furious breath hot upon me. My knees were shaking, but I stood my ground and stared him in the eyes. I commanded him to step away, and he did.

When we tried again, I didn't need to command the Beast anymore. Adrian had full control of his mind.

The last time we went into the woods together, Adrian's Beast form completely subsided and he was able to evade the curse all the way back to Blackhill. We celebrated late into the evening, drinking wine, toast after toast—us among the ghosts, the wonderful and familial spirits of the castle whose hopes were never dashed, even though we all knew still that the castle's enchantment was slowly coming undone and that a faceless future awaited us. And Barney remained lifeless in the hospital wing.

I don't know how much time passed. There seemed to be many nights where Adrian and I snuck up to the tower and talked in hushed voices until we fell asleep, as well as many afternoons upon the terrace where Adrian would coach me in sword play, teaching me with patience and confidence. He was becoming quite protective over me. We would sometimes spend mornings in the library, lost among the thousands of stories kept there, and every dinner was held with all the servants of the castle, with Adrian and I as their Master and Mistress. And they watched us all the time, saying things in hushed tones and with slight glances. I always noticed this.

There was barely a moment we were apart—in fact, we didn't want to be apart. Adrian would lead me on long, adventurous walks through the wild castle grounds, picking me roses along the way. Together we dreamt up a plan to escape from the Enchantress—and with what progress we made against the curse, our dream seemed not far away. I had never met someone braver than him before.

But there would be a halt in our plans.

We left the castle one morning, testing the limits of Adrian's withering curse. As the Beast, Adrian was able to control himself—but changing into the Beast was another matter, and he still was fighting for control over it. Once we departed Blackhill, Adrian and I set down a winding path through the wood. The further we went, the more sure I was of him that he had somehow conquered the curse—but as I came upon a notice nailed to a tree along the path, my heart fell into the deepest pit of my stomach.

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked, turning from the path up ahead and meeting me in front of the tree. He fell silent as his eyes set upon the wanted sign.

_WANTED: Beast. Reward: Five hundred pounds of gold._

Beneath was a short description of a creature that was none other than Adrian's beast. At the bottom of the notice was the official royal signature.

_Prince Stefan. Maybe he is alive._

"They know about you," I remarked, nearly breathless in shock.

Adrian tore the sign from the tree and folded it up carefully, slipping it into his jacket.

"It's the necromancer," he said bitterly, "he will send others in his stead. It is no longer safe for us to be out here. If they know about me, Belle, than they also know about you, I'm afraid."

It was doubtless. We headed back to Blackhill and made it to the castle before the late afternoon rains fell.

* * *

"Is something bothering you, Mistress Belle?" Matilde asked me that evening in the deserted dining hall. A midnight drizzle sounded against the towering windows, and we had sat there together with a cup of tea. Adrian was in the hospital wing sitting with Barney, as he set aside time to do so every evening.

I looked away from her, unwilling to show my guilt. "There is a kingdom wide hunt for Adrian right now. It's because of me."

Matilde sipped her tea thoughtfully. "They will not find Adrian here. He is a smart boy."

"I know," I said quietly, "he's the smartest person I've ever met. But that won't stop evil people from trying to hurt him. Besides, it's only a matter of time before the enchantment wears away completely and Blackhill will be noticed."

She patted my arm comfortingly, shaking her head. "The Enchantress would return, if that were the case. Don't lose sight of your true enemy, Belle."

"I still don't know how to fight her," I admitted aloud, "especially since Adrian has no idea what she wants with him."

Matilde offered a sly smile. "I have a feeling, my dear, that whatever her plans are—they are already disrupted completely. How else could you be here? Have faith."

Lord Terrowin had implied as much, though my role in this story was still unclear to me. There had to be someone else who could help us…

_These will help you later. I cannot say how. They are enchanted mushrooms. When you are lost for answers, you can eat these in a time of need. Please keep them safe, for they will be all I have left to give to you._

It was the voice of my fairy in my head. The last thing she had given me, and I had forgotten all about them in my pursuit to forget myself.

"Excuse me," I said suddenly to Matilde, and I departed the dining hall and made the long trek up to my room as fast as I could.

The fire in my room was burning low, but it illuminated my wardrobe just enough. I opened the oak doors and plunged my hand into the very back, where my rose dress hanged. My fingers met the whimsically soft fabric with hesitation as I pulled it out.

I had almost forgotten how beautiful it was. It was the last thing of Mary's I had. I searched for the pocket that contained the small sack of enchanted mushrooms gifted to me by the fairy, and pulled out two things:

The sack, and a small piece of paper. The small piece of paper that had my dear friend Old Mia's sister's address on it, of which I still had yet to find.

How could I have forgotten about that?

What if we left, and went there? Who would find us? No one. No one knew we would go there—I didn't even know myself. It was an escape route. I had to tell Adrian as soon as possible.

But it was the mushrooms, originally, I had sought out. If I ate them, maybe it would summon my fairy. She could help us, for sure. Maybe she even had powers strong enough to combat the Enchantress…

I caught the raven that Adrian used to deliver messages and gave it one of my own, then I headed up to the uncharted tower. Not a half hour passed before Adrian joined me. His hair was wet, hanging down his neck and his clothes damp, as if he had been outside.

"Belle," he greeted me warmly, holding the note in his hand, "is something the matter?"

"I think—I think I can help us," I said awkwardly. This would require careful wording, on my part. "A friend once offered to help me once in a time of need, and I think that time is now." The sack of mushrooms was in my pocket, I held onto it.

"Who, and how?"

My mouth was suddenly dry. "It—there is not much I can explain. Look," I took the satchel of mushrooms and held it out to him, "If I eat this, it will summon a fairy who can help us."

Adrian's eyes widened. He stepped forward and retrieved the sack, looking inside it as if it were a dangerous object. He then dumped them out onto the floor.

"Hey-"

"Belle," he said sharply, crouching over the pile of mushrooms with a curious look, "tell me who gave these to you."

This was not the reaction I had expected. I was growing confused. "It was someone I know I can trust," I said. His eyes met mine with a look of horror.

"Adrian-"

"Belle. Please tell me who gave these to you."

_No. No. No. No._

"What's the problem?" I asked.

He briefly put his head in his hands and then looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"The problem is someone has tried to kill you."

I took an involuntary step back, my chest tightening at his words. "What do you mean?" my own voice was faint to my ears.

He stepped over the pile and seized me by the shoulders, looking wildly into my eyes. "Those are the same mushrooms the Enchantress uses to murder her victims. It is what happened to some of the servants here… Do you see the golden flecks? The mushrooms have golden flecks. They are magical and terrible and deadly."

"It cannot be," I protested, "I've never even seen the Enchantress before."

Adrian embraced me tightly. "Please, please tell me who gave those to you."

I pulled away from him, and left the tower.

"Belle!" he followed me, "you can talk to me!"

"I can't," I said to myself, under my breath. Images of my fairy passed through my mind hauntingly. Had she really intended to kill me? Why? Could it have been a mistake? She had known my mother. She had helped me escape Lorna. She made me a beautiful dress for the ball—

But Sir Goose's enchantment had broken suddenly, if I remembered correctly. She said he would be human, but he changed back into a goose without warning. Maybe there were some things she had lied about, but I was incapable of understanding. My thoughts were whirring so furiously I thought I could faint.

Adrian met me at the bottom of the stairs, and reached for my hand to stop me from walking away.

"We're in this together," he insisted, "and I won't let anyone hurt you. All I'm asking is that you help me figure out why you ended up with those mushrooms. They are a rare, dark, item—and if there's any chance in the world that you have encountered the Enchantress before, it could be crucial to our plans."

"I didn't encounter the Enchantress," I blurted, "I had my own fairy, once. I don't know her name, but she came to me in a time of need and said that if I ever needed her again, to just eat the mushrooms…"

Adrian perceived me with great concern. "Is that all that happened?"

_Definitely not._

I turned away, ready to make my way down the hall; ready to find a hiding place and stay there forever. But he wouldn't let me go. I could feel Mary inside me again, and with it came great despair. My hopes had been crushed monumentally. I felt like I no longer separate reality from deception.

"Maybe I was mistaken," I said to Adrian, my voice shaking, "let's just forget it."

"I won't," he said hotly, "something is amiss. I will find out the truth. Belle, I don't want to frighten you—but if you can't tell me things, then this situation is out of our control."

"I used to be someone else!" I exclaimed, unable to stop myself before the words fell from my lips. I didn't want to keep things from him, but I couldn't stand it any longer. Who was I kidding? My past would haunt me as long as I attempted to keep it away.

"What do you mean?" his green eyes studied my face.

I heaved a sigh, shaking my head. "I once met a fairy who promised me she'd change my fate—and I did something terrible, and somehow I ended up here and met you but now it's all gone wrong."

"We were destined to meet," he insisted, "I saw you in the looking pool—no amount of magic could change that. Do not doubt us, Belle. I told you, you can leave your past behind. All I need to know is about this fairy."

"Adrian," I said, "some things just hurt to talk about." I gazed at him sincerely. I could say no more. The problems I had with myself ran deeper than he could understand.

He took me into his arms and held onto me for a long time. I was thankful for the silence. I was thankful for his touch. But I was still in despair.

I retreated to my room and bolted the door. I couldn't sleep that night.

* * *

Stefan regarded himself in the mirror. He wore his chainmail proudly, and it did well to cover his affliction. Despite the endless pain he felt from his mortal wound, he still had strength left in him. Just enough to go on one final hunt.

The week before, he had sent out thousands of notices about the wanted Beast. Luckily, his father had approved it. He had also allowed Stefan to ride out with his own small company into the wood to hunt the Beast. He was only allowed seven days, however, and Stefan knew that if he didn't find Mary in that amount of time, all hope was lost.

He was in the final stages of preparing to go just as his guard captain entered his quarters, out of breath.

"Your highness," Lance said hurriedly, "there's been a breach of security. The necromancer has escaped the dungeon and has gone missing."

Stefan turned on his heel, gritting his teeth in frustration. "How many casualties?"

"Four, sir."

The pain in his wound seemed to worsen at Lance's words. There was no time left to linger.

"We must leave at once," Stefan ordered, "The guards must be ready to leave within the hour."

"Is it the girl?"

"Yes," Stefan replied, "he will go after her. The man is a skilled hunter—he already has the advantage. Alert the village—sound the bells. Tell my father. I'm leaving now."

Stefan grabbed his sword and immediately made his way down to the stables. He mounted his hunting horse to the confusion of the guards who were still preparing for the seven day trip.

"I will meet up with you soon," he told them, "but I can't wait another moment. Look for me in two days." He rode off the castle grounds and through the village at full speed.


	24. Chapter 24

When I was a little girl, I always imagined myself as a princess. This was when my father was still alive and the encouraging words of my mother echoed from his lips. I was beautiful, they said. I was smart. And I was kind. I had the makings of a princess; and one day I would go to a ball and finally become one. Back then, there was no indication of any fairies or evil step mothers or curses. I believed in myself and was sure every day that someday I would have a cozy bedroom, high up in a grand castle, and a prince following me around with oaths and songs of love. Was I not the same as every other little girl there was? Except, I would not find out until much later, that _that_ is exactly what was supposed to happen.

And didn't. Because killers can't be princesses.

Being Belle had meant that I could leave behind my sins and shattered memories. How I missed my old self—but how I hated her all the same, and the idea of falling back into who I used to be—what would that mean? Everything I've built since coming to Blackhill—inside and out, would that not be destroyed with Belle? Mary could not have what Belle has, for she belongs in a different story, a terrible one that I could not again face.

Going forward now did not seem possible. Adrian would keep asking me, always looking for answers with his clever mind about who I really am and where I am from. Stefan's blood was on my hands. Lorna's soul had been snuffed on my account. And now Adrian was being hunted because of me…

I felt as if I were driven into madness that night. The anxiety crashed over me like a perpetual wave of fear, grief, and shame. As the moon moved across the sky, I did not blink once and I hardly breathed. I could not then realize something bad was happening.

Words and images passed through my mind repeatedly—the same ones, over and over but they were becoming progressively louder. I began to feel pain all over from places on me that had only felt that way long ago in the past. My heart was even breaking, and I couldn't perceive why. It could have been that my soul was finally ripping in two—half for Mary, half for Belle. It is an all-consuming sensation, falling into madness.

Much of it was indescribable—very little did I consciously perceive, but after a long while I could feel arms wrap around me and bring me up from the floor. Adrian's voice was suddenly in my ear, but when I heard it, it was as if he was standing on top of a mountain screaming down at me.

"_You are safe. Everything is okay. Don't be afraid, I've got you…_"

He carried me down the stairs as the hallucinations overtook me again.

The world was cold and dark. And I was going to Hell. Something was pulling me down—it could have been a thousand devilish hands attached to the bodies of the Damned. They were taking me there. I screamed, and screamed again.

"_Be brave Belle, be strong…_"

I could no longer recall the faces of the people I had loved. The names slipped away from me like a wicked serpent, slithering away into a void. My skin began to slide off my bones. The sound of my own screams became laughter. There was nothing left to say goodbye to as I faced a cruel oblivion.

"_I love you._"

It was the last thing I heard before the roaring in my head finally crashed, and I with it.

* * *

The night subsided to dawn, and the aurora and I did not meet. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that my desperate thirst woke me up. A cool, damp wash cloth against my forehead had triggered the reaction.

Matilde hovered over me, her face worn with sorrow in the light of the hospital wing. She sighed gratefully as I awoke.

My parched throat caused me to wheeze heavily, and not a moment passed before there was a cool goblet of water at my lips. I took a deep gulp and then a deep breath, sitting up immediately.

"Now, now," she breathed placing her hand to my chest, "let's take this a little slower my dear."

"What happened to me?"

Suddenly, like it never even was, the memories from the night before began to take flight.

"You came into contact with the poison mushrooms," Matilde explained in a steady, low voice, "it was nearly fatal; you were gravely ill. I used all of my hearing serum to cure you of the affliction—and even so, it did not seem enough."

It was true that I had touched the mushrooms. When I had taken the bag out of the closet, I plunged my hand within to make sure they were still inside as I dashed off to the tower. And so what Adrian had said was absolutely true; the fairy had attempted to kill me.

"I am in your debt again, Matilde," I told her earnestly, "and I believe I am better now. The whole thing feels like it was only a nightmare."

"Then fate is on our side," she said solemnly, "the Master found you just in time." Matilde nodded her head to the bed behind me.

I turned; Adrian lay asleep upon the pillow. He wore the same clothes from the night before.

"He only fell asleep this past hour. Only after we were sure you would pull through." Matilde poured me some more water. "I will fetch you two some breakfast."

As Matilde quietly departed, I sat back up again and steadied myself to my feet. One of Adrian's arms hung off the side of the bed. Timidly, I took his hand into my own and placed my lips upon his palm.

His eyes immediately fluttered open.

"Belle-" I was in his arms, and he held onto me tighter than ever before.

I rested my head against his chest and perceived the strong sound of his heartbeat. His fingers ran through my hair as he rested his forehead upon mine, peering at me closely.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and this time I kissed him. His lips were soft—surprised. I pushed mine tightly against his, maybe even a little too hard. But he had to know. He had to know by this one gesture exactly how I felt, and how completely I felt it. No matter how wicked I was, or how many times I seemed to yield to peril—he was there, saving me. Every time.

Matilde was right. Fate was on my side. And it was because the boy in front of me, who I held onto so desperately, loved me. I had done nothing to deserve it, but there it was. I knew the only way I could redeem myself was by returning that love—and how truly, sincerely I felt it then.

I think I had secretly felt it all along.

"Adrian," I said, out of breath, "I don't know how I got so lucky as to wind up here with you. But there is one thing I am sure about, this very moment—I want to be with you always. Through whatever is coming our way, and to face what haunts me. I know now I cannot do it without you."

He regarded me intensely as something in his eyes seemed to click, "Come with me," he said, leading me by the hand. We seemed to run downstairs; I in my nightgown, he in his worn clothes. The castle beamed with the soft afternoon sunlight, and the air was still and patient. I watched him leading me, and time began to slow as we moved.

Through the Dining Hall we went, and he flung open the doors that lead out onto the garden terrace. His legs were leading him with certainty, his mannerisms urgent and determined.

The rose garden was resplendent in hues of ruby and emerald. He had not brought me here before. The rose bushes were towering and grand; otherworldly, as if grown by the deed of magic. He followed what seemed to be a well-remembered path to the very back, and we were met with a high stone wall fronted by the worn statue of an angel. Here we stopped, and he turned to me, eyes glittering.

"I heard that if two people want to be with each other, they can take a vow to never be apart." His voice was inspired; into his shirt pocked he reached and conjured two silver rings.

"These rings aren't enchanted. There is no magic component to them whatsoever. They are merely worn to remind the wearers of their promise to each other."

I ran my fingers across the tops of the rings, gazing at them silently. One for him, one for me.

"Belle… I never want to lose you. Not even for one day," he continued, "and if that's how you feel about me too, then we can wear these. It would be my promise to you that I will never stop fighting. "

"Adrian," I said, "how do you know this would work?"

He laughed as if he hadn't laughed in a very long time, a sound of hope, "Because we'll _make_ it work. There's no other way to do it. You just have to believe, and never stop believing."

I nodded, understanding the gravity of his words, allowing them to sink in.

"This angel always reminded me of my mother, watching over me here when there was no one else and I was afraid. It is in front of her that I make this promise to you. Will you join me in this union?" His words were sincere—never before had I felt anything more profound than I did when he looked at me then. The rings shined in the sunlight.

"I will," I promised, "no amount of evil in this world can touch us here."

Adrian slipped the smaller of the bands upon my middle finger, and I did the same for him.

"My mother, the angel as our witness: I swear my love to you now, Belle. Every waking moment I will spend protecting you. You will never doubt it, for I will never fail you." His green eyes bore into mine with devotion.

I could feel the butterflies flit across my stomach like the careless creatures they were, like a song you cannot help but enjoy. "And I will never fail you," I swore in return. "My heart is yours."

* * *

The sorcerer limped down the dirt road, his foot dragging behind him among the pebbles. Soot blackened his face and obscured his features, but his rich clothes gave away his achieved status. A large and bulky satchel he carried with him, hunched beneath its weight. The road was long and didn't lead to shelter for many miles. Few crossed his path—which was good, because no doubt King Peter would soon catch his trail and recapture him.

_And then what would be left of my head?_

He had to wait until nightfall to cast an illusionary protection spell on himself that would buy him enough time to find somewhere to recover fully. It was still only midday, and he had many miles to go. So, on he walked towards the East.

It was hours after the sun bore down harshly upon his neck that he finally perceived some change in the distance up ahead. Though the sun itself was a master of illusions, Lord Terrowin's keen sense of smell validated the scene far before him as more than a hallucination.

A wild dust of smoke rose up out of the road and was thundering his way, a carriage prattling about in its midst. With it brought a tingling feeling of foreboding.

Too weak to try and make off into the deep woods and alter his path for miles, the necromancer watched the carriage approach him with weariness. As it came upon him a fury of speed, driven by a mysterious hooded figure, the horses pulling it were suddenly jolted to an abrupt halt.

Lord Terrowin slouched beneath his satchel and regarded the hooded figure with a menacing, sharped tooth smile.

"I see you are in a rush," he began as the hooded figure stared at him silently.

"And you are a pig headed for slaughter—or was it _from_ slaughter?" A cold voice replied as the carriage door swung open.

The Enchantress stepped gingerly out of the carriage and approached the necromancer with a half-smile, her dark hair falling elegantly over her black robes.

Lord Terrowin sniffed, no longer impressed by her regality. Severa drew a whip from her hilt and, in a flash, snapped the tie of his satchel and set the bag rolling. Four human heads tumbled out.

She shook her head. "Pathetic. I see you understand now what happens when you try to disrupt my plans. You can't steal power from _me_."

"It seems to me that your power s weakening in this land," the necromancer mused indifferently, "why else do you worry, now? The jest is on you." He turned away, making to continue on.

Fingers as hard as gold dug into his back, seizing him in a constricting pinch. "I know what you have tried to do," she hissed in his ear, "and now you will repay me before your forthcoming execution. It is only a question of whether it is by my hand, or the King's."

And Severa threw Lord Terrowin into her carriage, which, as soon as the door slammed shut behind her, resumed its course down the dirt road. Back towards the kingdom.


	25. Chapter 25

We had devised a fine plan, her and I.

The walls around us seemed to be falling. The spirits around us began blinking out one by one, but I did not tell Belle. Watching your family disappear right before your eyes is numbing, and Belle was the one thing I had left to believe in. Severa's enchantment upon the castle was weakening and slowly coming undone. This undoing seemed to obstruct her hold over me, and Belle and I had found that we could walk away from the castle without me changing into the Beast. So, together, we would make a run for it. Back to my island.

At least, that was the first part to our plan. There was not an option left to stay at Blackhill with the entire kingdom hunting the Beast. They would find the Beast, and hells would be raised. It was no doubt, at this time, Severa was being held up somewhere far away; her presence was all but vanishing. I was eager to see her go, and have savored the fantasies of what revenge I will one day lay at her feet, now that I am coming back from the dead.

We had spent the day in rapid motion, preparing for our sudden and secret depart. Belle had asked me about one of the painting's in the hall—the one with two fairies, dark and light. I told her how one of the fairies was Severa herself. She probably didn't even know about it. This is when Belle began to pale again, as she had when I discovered the mushrooms, but did not say more.

I felt as if Belle's spirit was breaking here. Never had I felt more helpless about anything before; the girl I loved grieving in silence. I urged her to see the light between us, to perceive what magic we produced, but I knew all she needed was to leave here. With me.

I could not say goodbye to even Louis or Matilde, and the betrayal cast a shadow upon my heart. If we were leaving, we were leaving as midnight runners. It was the only way I could ensure I was doing this as safely as possible. I promised Belle I would protect us both, and I intended to take every possible measure as we go.

There wasn't much we could take with us. I prepared my sword and some hunting clothes, filling a sack with meager provisions. I spun her around as we celebrated the beginning of our plan, stealing secret glances with each other and hurried kisses when no one was looking. She was running back and forth to the library, fretting over which books we should bring on our journey. My heart sang with the blissful songs of those who have fallen dead for someone they loved.

I will finally be going home and Belle is coming with me. That is all that matters to me right now. I love her. I love her. I swear I do.

* * *

I alighted her tower just moments ahead of the sunrise, donning my hunting gear and sword. We were to be gone within the first traces of light. My heart pounded quickly in my chest as I moved through the castle. I could not guess what now lay ahead of us, but I was ready to face it at last, with Belle at my side. I wanted to awaken Belle with a kiss; I wanted my first gift to her to be the memory of us departing a decaying world together. I wanted to taste the courage on her lips, how warm I knew it to be. We agreed to keep our rings on no matter what the situation was, so I wore mine over my gloves. We were leaving in disguise. I entered her room as quietly as the breeze, ready to awaken her. The dawn had not yet met her window, and the curtains of her four poster bed were drawn shut.

I approached her bed quietly and drew back the curtain, expecting to see her there. But she was not. The bed was undone, as if she had been laying in it not so long ago. A little taken aback, I placed my cheek against the pillow to see if there was any lingering warmth. There was not.

I drew away from the bed, and dropped to the floor, ready to catch Belle in her hiding place beneath it. I peered at the hallow space underneath; she wasn't there either.

"Belle?" My voice filled the room. It was terribly quiet.

I stepped out onto her balcony. The wide space was empty, perched just above the sunrise. It was near past time for us to be leaving.

I hurried down to the library. Perhaps she was picking out some last minute books.

"Belle?" I called to her as I entered through the newly repaired doors. I weaved my way through the hundreds of book shelves searching for her, but there was no sign of her whatsoever in the library.

She could be grabbing some last minute provisions in the pantry.

I made a dash for the kitchen, rushing down eerily empty halls. More than half of the familiar faces of the castle had vanished by now, and Barney with them. The castle was becoming a tomb.

I scanned the kitchen for her, but no one was there. I entered the pantry, my heart growing anxious. Something didn't feel right.

"Belle!" I called, coming back out into the corridor and heading for the Dining hall. My voice faced up into the emptiness around.

_Where did she go?_

The uncharted tower was the last place I knew to look. As I entered, the dawn's golden light began to pour through the window. It illuminated the tower in bright yellow. Belle was not there. I stopped by the hospital wing; it, too, was deserted.

"Matilde!" I summoned her for what would be the last time. She appeared before me, faint and wispy. I could almost see through her, and her face wore an expression of despair.

"Master," she said tearfully, "everyone is disappearing. Belle is gone too. All hope it lost…"

"What has happened?" I frantically asked, "Please, tell me what you know!"

She was fading before me. I reached out to her, but my hand met empty air. "Wait!" I cried, "Stay with me, Matilde!" With a sad, sad look, Matilde vanished into the sunlight.

"Louis!" I screamed, taking off towards the front of the castle. I would search the land around it. Belle had to be somewhere. She would have never left without me.

Louis met me at the door, his tall frame feeble and hunched. "You're the only one left," I said to him pleadingly, "I think something has happened. Everyone is disappearing—and I cannot find Belle. Please tell me you know what has happened!"

Louis grimaced, his eyes staring off somewhere far away. "I can hear the voices of my family," he said oddly, "after all this time. They say this place will soon be in ruins. I was honored to have you as my Master…"

"No! Louis, I can't lose you too! Do you know where Belle has gone?" I wanted to seize him by the shoulders and hold on to him so he wouldn't fade away, but in a second he too was gone. Just like that.

I ran outside, screaming Belle's name. The morning sun had risen. We were supposed to be gone by now.

I scoured the rose garden for her, the terrace, the fields. I ran the length of the grounds looking for her, but there was nothing left in or outside of Blackhill. Upon returning to the Dining hall, I fell to my knees. My heart was shattering inside my chest, the pieces strewn about the castle as I searched for her in vain. There was no note left, no sign of where she had gone, or when—or _why_. The only thing left in the castle was me. I suddenly felt quite weak.

The girl I loved was missing. The spirits who had fostered me had vanished. I was now alone—more alone than I had ever been before.

I stormed into my room, ripping items off my shelves and smashing them against the floor. I broke everything in sight, losing all control of myself.

_Where is she? Where is she?_

After searching every inch of the castle for her, I waited. I paced around the Dining hall until noon, my mind descending into madness as it became clearer with every passing second that she wasn't coming back. Had she run away from me? The thought was unbearable. I gazed at the silver ring on my finger, wondering where she was, willing for her to come back with the remnants of my crushed heart.

_My love, where have you gone?_

How could this happen? My sweet Belle—gone from my life just like that. I refused to believe she had left by her own decision. Our love was true—the truest thing there ever was. She would never leave me on purpose. We were going to run away together.

That could only mean she was in trouble, and I had no way of helping her until I found out where she had gone. I let myself starve and grow weary with exhaustion as I searched the castle for clues. I did not stop until the night's shadows consumed all light.

I stepped outside into the moonlight, tears of despair pouring from my eyes. I screamed at the moon until my screams turned into howls. The Beast had a deafening roar. He charged through the castle in blind fury, dismantling it as he moved through the night. He smashed pillars and windows and doors. He ripped the paintings to shreds and smashed the furniture. He destroyed everything in sight while he mourned the memories of the past ten years. I had lost control of myself, and now I had lost control of the Beast too.


	26. Chapter 26

I sat by my fire, alone and contemplating all that had just passed. Was I truly married to Adrian now? What exactly where we meant to be? I stared at my silver ring, my heart swelling with emotion. He was joining me in my running now. We would be starting a new life. It was these things that excited me—but it was the opportunity to right each other's wrongs I looked forward to most of all.

Piles of books were stacked up beside me, and I was sorting through them, trying to decide which ones to bring with us on our travels. I got caught up in reading one of the stories by the light of my fire, and ended up falling asleep.

The sweet dreams of hope filled my head as I slumbered into the late evening. I was already wearing my traveling clothes for the morning, for we had planned to leave suddenly. I awaited Adrian's signal, for as soon as he was ready we would be gone without a trace.

It was in the dead of the night I had heard someone say my name. I awoke suddenly as the extinguished fire beside me rendered my room slightly cooler.

I sat up. "Who is it?" I asked sleepily.

The voice came from the other side of my door; it sounded like an elderly woman. "It's Aggy from the kitchen, brought you a snack to eat on Matilde's orders."

Had I skipped a meal? The small hallow in my stomach made me appreciate Matilde and her watchful eye. I opened my door to find the old woman standing there with a single candle and an apple. I wasn't sure if I had ever seen or spoken to her before—though there were at least a dozen servants in Blackhill who I still had yet to speak with. She grinned when she saw me, and I offered her a tired smile.

"It's very kind of you," I said to her, "to come up here and offer me this, but I assure you I'm perfectly fine."

She smiled, holding the apple out to me. "Just take one bite, dear Mary, and I will be gone—and I will tell Matilde you ate the whole thing!"

Her voice was slightly mischievous, so I couldn't help but laugh. I retrieved the apple and bit into it, realizing suddenly that I hadn't eaten much at all lately. The sweet juices filled my mouth as I swallowed the first bite.

"Say," I said to her, staring at her face keenly, "what did you call me?"—

The old woman's face had changed. It was not an old woman standing in front of me after all—but what appeared to be an elf. He was tall, thin, and pale with blackened lips and eyes. But hadn't there been an old woman, not even a moment ago?

"Mary," the elf said, "I am Riss, at your service." Here, he bowed deeply.

I regarded him with confusion. _Mary_…

"Yes, that is my name," I said aloud, dropping the apple I had just been holding. It rolled away from me and out of sight.

_Where am I?_

I looked around and did not see anything familiar. I did not even understand where I had gotten the clothes I was wearing.

"You have been through a great ordeal," Riss said to me quietly, his face an unsettling image upon the flickering candlelight, "I have come to take you… home."

"Home? To my father's house?" I asked him, unsure of how I had left it in the first place. Riss did not answer; he merely raised a finger to his lips to indicate my silence.

"If you want to come with me and return home safely, you must do exactly as I say. The people here have poisoned you and made you their prisoner. If they catch you leaving, they will try to stop you. Here, put on this robe," the elf produced a heavy black, hooded robe and draped it around my shoulders. I stared at him in shock.

"We haven't much time, Mary," the elf urged me, drawing the hood up over my head.

"How long have I been here?" I asked frantically, trying to keep my voice low despite my sudden panic.

"At least a month, maybe more. Everyone in your kingdom is looking for you. They are counting on me to bring you back." Riss blew out the candle and stood still as our eyes adjusted to the dark.

I could not think of how I had come here, or how long it had been. Could I have been poisoned so heavily that my memory was now damaged? Who would do this to me?

I searched my mind for any lingering memories… but this place was only a mystery to me. The last thing I could remember for sure about myself was leaving the royal ball after meeting Prince Stefan. It was as if, after that, I had been sleeping all the way until now.

I followed the elf through a haunting maze of empty corridors, pitch black and terrifying. It appeared I was in some sort of abandoned castle. My captors did not come upon our path, though, as Riss led me down carefully. My heart sat in my throat as we descended. I followed the elf blindly to a large pair of doors which we stole through in a flash.

Outside, the night was still except for the occasional howling of a wolf in the distance. I followed Riss past a large, heavy gate that surrounded the front of the castle and into the woods, where a horse and wagon were waiting. He climbed up upon the bench and told me I could sit in the wagon. I took a glance back at the strange castle I had been imprisoned in—it was lost above me in the night. I felt the strangest of all feelings as we pulled away from it, down the road.

Probably the strangest feeling I had ever felt before.

When the dawn broke, we were miles away. I began to recognize the road leading towards my village. Riss sang to himself as we traveled, sharing very little words with me. I tried to remember something of my lost time—anything—but nothing was there. My mind was abandoned of any memories of that place. The feeling haunted me like no other.

Late in the day, we came upon a lone rider on the road. I remained seated in the wagon, my hood drawn over my head as Riss had advised to ensure we would make it all the way uninterrupted.

The wagon slowed as the rider blocked our path on his horse. He seemed to be a powerful figure, though he too wore a hood that hid his face.

"Who comes this way?" he asked us authoritatively.

Riss grinned, his tone at ease. "I am a traveler heading towards the royal palace to seek an audience with the king."

The rider didn't budge. "Tell me what you have seen of these parts."

"I have seen many a strange thing, my friend," Riss replied, "though they are tales I am saving for the king. Might you clear the path so I can be on my way now?"

The rider pulled his hood back, revealing a very familiar face.

"Stefan!" I exclaimed, drawing my hood back as well.

He was about to say something else to Riss, but once he saw who I was, his mouth fell open in astonishment.

"Mary," he leapt from his horse and was immediately at my side. He took in my face with disbelief and relief all at once. "I thought you were dead," he said to me, "I've searched the entire woods for you-"

Suddenly, Riss was wedging his way between us. "I did not recognize Your Highness," he said apologetically, "but you must understand I intended to deliver the girl back to the kingdom safely, and I was hoping to be compensated for my work."

Stefan's expression turned to mild disgust as he beheld the dark elf. He looked to me, "Mary, has this individual aided you in some way?"

I nodded, "It is true… though I can hardly say where I have been or what's happened."

"They poisoned her to forget," Riss interjected, "whoever it was."

Stefan pulled a sack of gold coins from his horse's saddle and tossed it the elf's way. Riss snatched it from the air with a wide grin.

"My greatest wishes to you," he said to Stefan, "glad I was able to help."

Stefan ignored him, turning back to me. "Mary," he said softly, "come with me back to the palace. You can recover there—and then, well, stay as long as you like. I promise we will get this all sorted."

I was beyond relieved to see Stefan again, though it had seemed that we had parted only the day before. I had run away, and that's all I could remember. My head hurt terribly the more I tried to think about it. But I knew for sure Stefan was true to his word. The most charming prince I had ever met- His smile was gentle and reassuring, and I recalled how much I had really like him the night we met. Maybe my mother's wish would come true after all.

He helped me climb up onto his horse, and together we set down the path back towards his palace, leaving the elf behind.

* * *

_End of Part 1._


	27. Chapter 27

As we entered the village on his horse as the sun was just beginning to set, the townspeople met us on the street with roses. Stefan and I were ragged from the journey, having ridden through a late afternoon storm. His metal armor was firm against my back, and we had ridden hard the entire way home. His men had already alerted the castle of his homecoming, far ahead of us, so the banners were raised in our welcome.

The townspeople laid roses at our feet as we traversed up to the palace on the horse's tired back. I sighed, overwhelmed with the passing events and physical endurance, and rested my head against Stefan's chest for only a moment. It was the looming threat of sleep that compelled me to keep my eyes open and face the strange scene before me. I felt again as I had before, when I first danced with Stefan at the ball—an intruder, a stranger in a story that belongs to someone else. But having Stefan close was comforting, for my head was ill from trying to remember what had happened to me.

"They are just as happy to see you as I am," Stefan whispered in my ear. "You are the girl who ran away."

_That's right, I __**was**__ trying to run away._ _But where to?_

"I am glad to be back. Somehow, in my heart I had felt I would never see this place again. It's a strange sorrow." My words came out honestly, as they tend to do when your mind is preoccupied.

"I would be glad to never see this place again, but now that you're here I think I'll be glad to make the most of it. I will see your full recovery, Lady Mary." Stefan said as we turned uphill towards the palace.

I watched as the village faded and the palace grounds met my eyes. Stefan did not follow the main path; he cut off from the road and into the surrounding kingswood, and we emerged onto the east side of the castle, where the living quarters stretched out into the courtyards. We rode into a softly lit stable and finally dismounted after our long journey. Stefan helped steady me to my feet, and then taking my hand led me quietly under the night's stars towards the castle. The first time I had seen his palace, I had been nearly speechless—but now, well, hadn't I seen an even grander castle before in my dreams?

_Stop thinking._

"It was the glass slipper," he explained to me as we snuck in through the servant's quarters on the outside of the palace. "the one you left behind. It was just enough of a clue to trace your path. We followed it for days before coming across you—and the Beast…"

Stefan suddenly stopped; we were hand in hand, hesitant at the base of a stone staircase leading out of the servant's quarters. There were soft murmurs ahead, a distant movement. He looked to me, "I'm avoiding my father."

I was still processing his words. _A Beast?_

"What do you mean, Stefan, about a beast?"

"You don't remember?" His expression was concerned; he peered at me closely, searching my face for memories I did not have. "I will find whoever did this to you and we will soon know everything," he vowed, a darkness in his eyes. Suddenly, he drew away from me, clutching his shoulder and gritting his teeth in pain.

I reached out to him, alarmed, "Stefan—what is wrong, have you been hurt?"

He looked away from me, subtly straightening his frame. "It's nothing," he said quickly, his tone mild, "it's just been a long week. You and I need rest. I'm taking you to my aunt's old quarters—she just moved away with her betrothed. They are roomy and comfortable, and no one will bother you there."

"Thank you, Stefan," I said at last, "for everything."

"Don't thank met yet," he said with a laugh as he opened a heavy wooden door at the end of a hallway and led me into an empty bedroom, "wait 'til you see what it's like to live here. Soon enough the walls will just seem a little too high." Stefan hovered before the fireplace and took a few moments to bring it to life. I stepped towards the warmth, shivering in my dampened clothes.

"You said you've never been to the sea," Stefan noted aloud, standing beside me at the fireplace, "what do you say we go?"

I looked at him incredulously. "The coast is not for another kingdom's reach, I thought."

"I know," he stared into the fire, his tone thoughtful, "It is quite far. But I need to get away. I would love to show you where the ivory sand meets the deep, rolling waves. It's the kind of thing you have to see before you die."

I pictured the pretty image in my mind, of which I had only seen before upon the pages of stories I read. "When can we go?"

He grinned. "Soon, I hope. There are many affairs to take care of here at the castle before I will be granted my next opportunity of freedom. You, too, are in need of some recovery. Mary," he turned to me, "I cannot express in words how grateful I am that you're alive."

I blushed at the straightforwardness of his words. I was sure we hardly knew each other, but somehow with him that didn't seem to matter.

"I must get going," Stefan said suddenly, his gaze returned to the fire, "but I will be sending a handful of servants this way to keep you company and provide you with what you need. Sleep well, Mary." He kissed my hand and offered me one long, lingering look before departing.

I watched him go and then took a seat in front of the fire, drawing my knees up to my chest.

To the sea, with Stefan. Could it truly be possible? It felt like the type of adventure I had only read about before, curled up in my attic bedroom with a candle in secrecy.

A fleeting glint of light upon my hand suddenly caught my eye—

I was wearing a silver ring on the middle finger of my left hand.

_Now how did that get there?_

It had not been there before I had run away. Hopefully, I thought to myself, these mysteries would soon unravel and I would no longer be burdened with this feeling of oblivion. But until then, I was more than glad to share in Prince Stefan's company.


	28. Chapter 28

The hour was early, but the Prince was awake and standing at his bedroom window, watching the sun seep over the kingdom in front of him; his view from the castle had always been magnificent. From up there he could perceive the entire village below and the surrounding lands that stretched into the forest, lost in the horizon. But with his shoulder wound, gifted to him by the necromancer, he now viewed the world through a lens of pain and secret despair.

There was a soft knock coming from behind one of the larger tapestries on his wall, and suddenly it swung open and a good friend stepped out of the secret passageway.

"Marius," Stefan turned and greeted his old friend with an enthusiastic embrace, "it's been ages."

Marius untied the cloth that obscured the bottom half of his face and revealed the wide grin of a boy about Stefan's age. "Too long, apparently. It looks like your father has attempted to block off certain passageways with guards stationed at meeting points. Has he finally lost his marbles?"

Stefan shook his head, his laughter ironic. "There is much to discuss about the situation here. I'm sure you've heard of my… affliction, by now."

Marius' smile faded and he turned to a medium sized bag he brought with him. Pulling it open, he revealed a stash of medical apparatus within. "I came prepared. Now let's get to the bottom of this."

Stefan removed his shirt and allowed his friend to examine the wound that would not heal. Strange it was, though, hardly a normal wound as not only did it seem to become worse, but pain would consume him randomly and he would fall weak and ill periodically.

"This is not something I have yet encountered," Marius reluctantly admitted, "not even in the poorer kingdoms that I've recently travelled to… but that's not a reason to give up hope. Here," he produced a small vial from the bag, "put a drop of this every day in a goblet, and mix it with wine. It's an old fashioned remedy but it'll do what it can for you. I know it can at least dull the pain, my friend. I think I will have to look further into this necromancer's poison to find a cure for it."

"He said there was no cure," Stefan said for the first time aloud, "and I believe him. Now he's escaped and I think I can feel myself dying, however slowly."

"Nonsense."

Stefan shook his head. "If I were braver, I wouldn't believe it. But I do. I don't know how long this secret can be kept for though, Marius, for if I am to die-"

"—don't even consider it," Marius firmly interrupted, "I have been practicing this healing skill for a decade now, and my studies have led me to know for sure that there is _nothing_ in this world that does not have a cure. We need only to find it."

Stefan sighed, and regarded his oldest friend with sadness. "I only mean to say we are running out of time." He put his shirt back on, and a coat over it. Stefan was determined to keep the wound hidden from everyone and everything, even himself.

"That part may be true," Marius conceded, digging about in his healing bag, "so vigilant we will be. You know in matters like this, where time is slipping through our very fingers like water, it would be wise to seek help. Are you sure your father can't know about this?"

"I have stopped speaking to my father," Stefan replied in an ugly tone, "there is nothing more to say to him. He only intends to push me up upon the throne and then vanish into the land of magic. He cares nothing for this world anymore, much less his own sons."

Marius closed his healing bag with a snap. "You must be candid with me, my friend. What of this girl I've been hearing rumors about?"

Stefan sat down upon his bed and rubbed his shoulder of the pain. "Her name is Mary."

"Yes, and?—"

"I don't know. I met her the night of the ball. She was the only person who stood out to me, but then she ran away. The necromancer went after her, and so did I. That's when he shot me with his arrow. I only just found her again yesterday; she was being escorted by some strange being upon the kingsroad. She has no memory of what has happened to her at all. Is that not bizarre? I'm keeping her here under my personal protection."

"Is she the one you will choose to marry? That's what the townspeople whisper about."

"How could I marry her? I am dying. Whatever was meant to be is now lost. The last thing I will do, if we truly run out of time, is go to the sea. I will take her with me. Nothing else really matters anymore."

"That is not the prince I know," Marius remarked accusingly, "how can you give up hope already?"

Stefan shook his head. "The world is a different place when you know you will no longer be a part of it. That is all I can say."

Marius gave his friend a meaningful glare. "It's time I depart and make my rounds about the village. Lots of sick people there. I will be back at evenfall, and when I am, we will start mapping out our plan to find the cure."

"As always, my friend," Stefan watched him disappear back through the secret passage way, his spirit weakening at the sight.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of a servant entering my bedroom and setting down a tray of breakfast near my bed. I sat up, immediately feeling that somehow, I was somewhere else. The servant, who I had never seen before, regarded me with surprise and confusion as I looked around at my surroundings, realizing I was in Prince Stefan's castle.

"Good morning to you," the young servant girl said as I stared at her blankly, "if you crave a bite to eat, there is porridge and fruit here for you. In the wardrobe are some dresses that are your size, too. Lady Margaret was a petite woman before her pregnancy."

"That is very kind of you," I replied, getting out of bed, "My name is Mary, by the way."

The servant girl gave me a knowing smile. "You can call me Paulina. I used to serve Lady Margaret before she moved away a few months ago—now, well, I guess I will be serving you, Lady Mary. Do you know how long you will be here?"

I sifted through the wardrobe and pulled out a simple dress that would fit me well, changing into it immediately. "Until I regain my memory, I suppose. So maybe I will be here forever."

Paulina fell curiously silent. Fully dressed, I ran a comb through my hair and began to eat some of the breakfast. No sooner had I began when there was a knock at the door. Paulina opened the door to reveal Stefan, dressed down in raggedy pauper clothes, his hair tied back beneath a worn hat.

"May I come in?"

I nodded eagerly as Paulina made her leave, closing the door behind her.

"I need to run an errand," Stefan began, "would you like to join me?"

I eyed his clothes curiously. "Absolutely. Should I dress down a bit for it…?"

This made him smile. "No one recognizes you yet, thankfully. Anonymity in this kingdom is the key to freedom."

He led me back through the servant's quarters to the stable where his horse waited, and upon the saddle was a large sack tightly tied shut. We mounted the horse and descended through the forest to the village, riding in an excited silence.

The village was already awake, bustling with the movement of thousands of people. The early morning smells of bakeries drifted through the air, met by the sound of greetings and farewells as the villagers moved about, fulfilling their daily obligations as the sun moved up into the sky. Disguised as a commoner, and with me at his side, Stefan rode through the streets with the sack jingling behind us. We passed by the market place where I used to sell vegetables for coin; I scanned the many faces down the street as I searched for Old Mia's likeness; she was nowhere in sight.

Stefan tied his horse up in one of the public stables and gave the waiting stable boy a few silvers to look after it. When we dismounted, he heaved the sack down and over his shoulder, and we made our way through the village on foot, heading towards one of the poorer districts.

No one gave us a double glance; we blended in well as we moved through the busy streets. The shops and inns around us began to decrease in size and grandeur as Stefan led us to the poorer part of town. In this section of the village, the children that ran around and played did so in tattered clothing and without shoes. The elderly were often left abandoned and alone upon the street, asking for help from any passerby. The people who lived here were gaunt, and tired. Is it possible for there to be a kingdom that exists without such poverty? Never in my own misfortune did I ever experience the coldness and disparity of the streets, and the feeling moved me heavily in my heart.

The sack Stefan carried upon his back jingled again. I looked at him sideways, and something clicked.

"Are you giving it all away?" I whispered.

Stefan replied with only a wink, and steered us towards a pavilion where an old man sat alone upon the steps; his blindness was obvious by the milky white of his eyes and the gnarled state of his long, white hair. Stefan sat next to the blind man, and introduced himself.

"My name is Phil, sir," he said to him, "and if you will tell me all you think of this kingdom, and what you have heard from others, I will give you enough gold to build a house."

The old man frowned, his milky eyes peering into a different world. "What is that you say? Such idolatry. I don't normally take part in secular discussions. If you have eyes, unlike myself, you can see me and know what I think of this kingdom. Leave an old man be."

"To be, is a very important thing, sir," Stefan replied respectfully, "I can only speak for the living. I am tremendously humbled by you, and I will vow to make it right again." He reached into the sack and pulled out a large handful of coins, of which he slipped into a discreet pouch, and placed it into the unsuspecting hands of the blind man, who received the weight of coins in disbelief.

Stefan turned to me, "Anyone you see, who appears to be in need, give them gold. I emptied my account this morning, and with it I am repaying the kingdom for the deeds of my family's rule."

"You emptied your account?" I was surprised by this, but no less impressed by his selfless deed.

He avoided my gaze. "It's gone now. It does not matter to me anymore." He paused, "But then again, it never mattered to me anyway. It feels right, giving it away."

"How cryptic you are," I said, echoing his words to me from the night we met, "but I don't mind. What about them?" I pointed towards a shabby vegetable stand where a young couple and their baby managed, searching the street hopefully for someone to buy their vegetables.

Stefan approached their stand, and studied the vegetables thoughtfully. The family looked on in silence as he chose a handful of potatoes, carrots, onions and turnips and asked what the price would be.

The man held up three shaking fingers; three bronze coins. Stefan nodded, and again reaching into his sack of money, brought out at least a hundred gold coins and filled the man's apron with them. The mother holding the baby looked on speechlessly as her husband thanked Stefan with broken words. But we did not stay to hear it; there was much gold left still. Down the street we went, leaving secret gifts to the innocent and the needy, the sad and forgotten people of the village. We stopped by the orphanage and left the bag of vegetables Stefan had bought, as well as a pile of gold that could supply all the needed food for years. Stefan talked with everyone. He asked them what they thought of the kingdom, like he had never before heard the truth. I could tell he was searching for answers, but at the same time he seemed so care free. His smile was as cool as the breeze, his demeanor charming and diplomatic. In his pauper clothes, he appeared to be a boy who felt like he could change the world. My heart swelled as I journeyed with him through the village, passing out the gold like fairies in the night. It was a privilege like no other.

Midday came, and we were resting in the village square, sipping some wine Stefan had bought us.

"I feel like a different person, after seeing all those people realize their lives have changed," I mused aloud.

"They are my people. I owe them so much." He replied contemplatively. "Thanks for coming with me to do this. It was you who inspired me."

I raised my eyebrows and looked away, humbled. I smiled as one particular memory floated through my head. "I remember, the night I met you, I was wondering what _the Prince_ would be like. Would he be kind, and just? Would he be a good leader? And here you are, and you are all that and more. You should know it."

Stefan leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was quick, but it was meaningful. He peered at me in the eyes, "You are so kind. I am so grateful to have you with me." He appeared to want to say more, but he looked away and got to his feet.

"There is much ground to cover. What do you say we continue on?"

I followed him on, and it was the best afternoon I ever had.


	29. Chapter 29

I waited in despair as time passed me by, and Belle never came back. Her absence left me hallow and cold. I could see no further than the sorrow that veiled my heart and eyes.

Blackhill had fallen to ruins. It only took a day.

I sat in the remains of the library; the books were turned to ashes, and the walls sagged and crumbled around me like stone withered by a thousand year's time. Forever, it seemed, I gazed at the silver band I shared with Belle, wondering what had happened to her.

My raven was all that was left, so I set him free. He squawked uncertainly in my hands, trying to understand where I wanted it to go; but I only intended for it to go away. Eventually he flew unevenly into the sky, disappearing over the trees.

_I wish I could fly; then I wouldn't have to run._

I made a promise to Belle that I would protect her always, and I lost that chance not even a day afterwards. I was ill now, reduced to nothing more than a decaying abstract among enchanted ruins. Was this why I was scared of her, at first? That the possibility of me loving and losing her was always the most realistic of outcomes, and it was something I conceived in my heart right away?

_If you're not scared of losing something, than you don't truly love it. _

My heart screams her name. For some reason I am still waiting for her to answer the call.

The last of the summer storms passed over Blackhill, and flooded the ruins. I remained deep within the library, where it was dark and soulless, waiting for the storms to pass. They would only momentarily hold off the Beast hunt, but I knew I would be found eventually, if I stayed here. Without Belle, though, my fate hardly mattered to me anymore. She was my only way out.

And then there were periods of all consuming anger, and I would succumb to the Beast. He lurked among the ruins no differently than me, falling weaker as time passed. I began to grow afraid that I would eventually die, but in Beast form. The thought scared me like no other. And so my darkest days passed, too.

Somehow I wound up at the seeing pool, where I had seen Belle for the first time. It was one of the only enchanted things left of Blackhill.

"Show me Belle," I demanded, peering deep within.

The small pool shivered at my words, but revealed nothing. I could feel hot tears streaming down my face as I again screamed into it, "Show me Belle!"

If it didn't respond, I could only presume her to be dead. The thought froze my insides entirely, and I decided for sure that I would end myself if that were the case. It would be my final act of defiance against the Enchantress. She took away everything I ever loved, so I would terminate myself and destroy her plans. What I parted with was only the broken shards of something that could've been otherwise. A fate I had lost to evil.

I would only need to jump from the uncharted tower, into the oblivion below. I could be happy doing it, knowing it was the only thing between me and being reunited with all those I have lost. A leap of faith, as they would say.

"Show me Belle."

I leaned in so close to the water that I could see my reflection, distorted and otherworldly. I peered at myself, imagining what the world would look like rushing by me as I fell.

In a second, I lost my balance and I tumbled head first into the pool. I expected to feel the icy water swallow me whole, and sink to the bottom, however shallow this pool surely was.

But I felt no water at all. I passed through the surface like a bird through the clouds, and fell into darkness. Was this death, at last? Had I drowned so quickly?

But I finally hit the bottom, landing on buckling feet, and perceived for the first time a place I had only heard of before, a place I believed no longer existed—I had fallen into the land of magic.


	30. Chapter 30

It was the realm of all forgotten. A hollow, nearly empty space. My very footsteps echoed behind me as I walked among the rocky terrain; I appeared to have fallen inside a cave glowing and teeming with magic.

The surface of the pool rippled high above me; all around me appeared to be a great, empty cavern. Had this once been filled with creatures of magic? My mother had told me the land of magic was really more than one land. It could exist in the space of a raindrop, or it could consume our world entirely. However big it was, everyone knew it was fading away. Nothing lasts forever, my mother told me, and the time of magic has nearly ended. Except for our island; a unique place, and one untouched by the changes of the world… and somewhere I would never see again.

It was a wet place. I could hear water dripping from the stone walls and puddles gleamed ahead of me, leading deeper in. I looked up, back at the surface of the seeing pool. How long had it been a portal to this world? Why hadn't I found it sooner? I concluded that I could reach the surface again by climbing up the rocky, cavernous wall pitted with footholds. But maybe there was another way out.

"_A stranger arrives_."

The voice was smaller than I thought possible; an ethereal whisper floating through the air.

"Who's there?" I squinted into the darkness ahead and made out the faintest of lights, glowing white and pearl.

I moved forward with caution, pursuing the fading light before it was lost. The narrow, rocky path led away from the seeing pool above and into the darkened cavern. I followed it some ways, holding onto the damp walls.

Around a sharp bend I was suddenly confronted with the source of the light; a glowing orb, floating in the air, radiant and mighty. I peered at it in captivation to realize that it was not just floating—it was a live creature, one with wings.

"You're a-"

"A fairy, indeed!" she said, her voice filling the space of the cavern.

I stepped back, my distrust for fairies persuading me to turn around and go back the way I had come, but her next words captivated me further.

"You are Adrian, are you not?"

I halted. "How do you know of me?"

The tiny fairy sighed, and in a flash of brilliance, reappeared in human form. She was tall, her blond hair falling to the floor. Around her wrists were shackles connected to the stone floor. A prisoner of sorts.

"I believe we are acquainted through my sister," she said, her voice soft and sorrowful.

I regarded her in confusion. The only other fairy I knew was—

"You're Severa's _sister_?"

She nodded. "I am. And we, both her prisoners."

"I never knew she had a sister," I said, raking my memory for any indication of it in the past, but there was none. Except for the painting Belle had asked me about. The one with Severa and another fairy—a light fairy. The very one shackled before me. I realized now it had been a big clue, but I couldn't understand what Belle had suspected, for she had not told me. The memory of Belle stung me hard.

"I am Pandora," she said, "Very few know my name."

"Well, apparently you know who I am. I have something I need to do, so I should be on my way." I turned to go. I had no interest in concerning myself with the affairs of another fairy. The uncharted tower would not hold up forever, and if I wished to jump from it, I needed to head back.

"The tears in your eyes are fresh. Why do you mourn?"

I stopped again at her words. "I mourn the souls taken by Severa, and I mourn the life of the girl I loved. There is nothing left here for me in this world." My words came freely, without concern. At the end of things, there are no more secrets to keep.

The fairy's eyes lit up, "But the girl you love is _alive_!"

A surge of anger jolted me, white hot and terrible. I gazed at the fairy with this anger, envisioning the deceit on her lips. Fairies are liars. Any blood relative of Severa is the worst kind. There were no words I could spare to express my hatred, so I again made to leave. The fairy could rot in the damp and darkness down here, for all I cared. By sun down, I would no longer be a part of this wretched world.

"She is alive and well—please come back, I can explain!"

I was already out of the fairy's sight, standing beneath the light of the looking pool above. The surface swelled with rain falling from the sky, I could see. Another storm was passing. I was ready to feel the rain beat down upon my face, the cold swallowing me whole.

_Belle, I will be with you soon again._

I reached up onto the wall for the nearest crevice to grab onto, and held on tight to make my way up. As soon as one of my feet left the ground, I was struck by a burst of energy. The same white light flashed behind me, and I lost my grip upon the stone and stumbled back to the ground.

The fairy stood above me, free of her shackles and stern in the face. "I will permit you to go once you have heard what I must say. My own path to freedom starts with the truth. I must speak it out loud, and you _must_ hear it!"

I attempted to pull myself up, but my ankle had taken the weight of my fall. Standing was not going to be an easy task. I looked up at the fairy in anger. "Were you not just shackled?!"

"The power left in you has helped me greatly," the light fairy explained softly, "You are unaware of the magic that's inside of you."

I shook my head, my teeth gritted against the pain shooting up my leg. I was forced to listen as she began her story.

"Severa wasn't always known as the evil Enchantress. When we were young, we lived in a different world. A different Age. As time passed and our world changed into another, Severa grew afraid. She said she wanted to wind back time and freeze it, to preserve and protect all she knew and loved—particularly the land of magic and all its creatures. You see now what her efforts have become. I refused to help her, and she has punished me for it. Now her plans are different, and they are evil. What she did to you was the worst of all of her sins."

"And why did she do it! Why me? Can you tell me _that_?"

Pandora looked at me sadly. "You, strangely enough, were her last hope. And she destroyed that too."

I sat back against the damp stone wall, my mind bursting with questions. If this fairy told the truth—then maybe Belle _was_ alive. But why did she confess to me at all?

"A prince you've never believed yourself to be, but a prince is what you are. And a prince with magic in his blood… the last of your kind. It came from your mother's side, for her family had lived on the island between all Ages, and inside of you carries what power is left of them."

"I've never been magical," I remarked dubiously, "besides, my mother never mentioned any of that. We lived a quiet life in the woods. We were happy."

The fairy smiled at my memory, and nodded. "I can imagine that you were quite happy. She loved you very much. So much that she left her life behind to raise you in secrecy and protection."

"I can see no reason why she would've kept that from me," I argued.

"She kept it from you because your father is a very powerful man. She kept it from you due to the very reason we are here right now. It was a dangerous combination."

"What was?"

"The mixing of royal and magical blood. Your father is a king."

I sat in a silent shock, as if I had been cast with a stunning spell. I hadn't even considered who my father was before. He never seemed to matter. My mother never spoke of him, and I did not ask.

"My father—is he—_alive_?"

Pandora nodded solemnly. "As you were unaware of his existence, he is unaware of yours. The important thing is you know the truth about yourself. You are his eldest son—and by the law of all worlds, you are the rightful heir to his throne. Severa has control over you for this reason. With your magical blood, she can change the world back to the dark ages."

I put my head in my hands and stared into the darkness. I no longer had the energy to question the validity of her words. I could feel myself becoming numb beneath the weight of it all.

"What of Belle?" I asked earnestly, "you said she was alive."

"Indeed. This is where I come into your story. I watched you grow under my sister's guard for years. I perceived the sorrow in your eyes and recognized the terrible wrong that had been committed against you. I made a decision—one I will surely pay for—to put a stop to Severa's plans. I have spent my years fulfilling the wishes of mortals, and I could hear a voice crying out for help, and so I answered it.

"A young girl, innocent and hurt, she was yearning for freedom. I had known her mother—a good woman who passed into the afterlife shortly after her daughter's birth. Just as Severa had changed your fate to suit her needs, I changed Mary's to suit mine."

"Who is Mary?" I interjected.

Pandora regarded me calmly, "Mary is Belle. You were aware that the girl you love has deep secrets. She, too, is a victim of Severa. And myself."

Something clicked. "It was you that gave her the poison mushrooms!" I exclaimed, "She almost died!" Belle had had many secrets; I could see them on her face and the pain they caused her. I would have never asked. But now I was finding out more about both of us than I could have ever imagined.

"Mary had a fate of her own, one that had been written in the sky long before her birth. But fairies can change the stars, so I paid her a visit and granted her wish of freedom. I set her loose into the world, knowing that she would become the savior of Severa's treachery. Severa found out immediately and intercepted my plans. She enchanted herself to appear as me, and gave the mushrooms to her, assuming she would eventually consume them and die. But Mary found you anyway. Both of you together, fates intertwining—now _that_ kind of magic is irreversible. Severa can be stopped, because of it."

In my mind, I could again see Belle's face. She had always given me such hope. I had never doubted it.

"I knew Mary had arrived at the enchanted castle, as I could hear your voices through the pool. Severa is-or was, far off, preoccupied in her plans. I too knew she could feel her powers weakening in this world, but never would she have guessed Mary lived. Your curse is broken. Once you fully accept who you are and were born to be, you will never change into the Beast again."

My throat was dry. I swallowed hard. "Please, tell me where Belle is. How can I get to her?"

Pandora beamed. "As I said, Prince, she is safe. But know this: Severa intends to put you on the throne and control you, turning the kingdom dark. Your father has two other sons; they are also in danger because of this. If you change into the Beast again, she will grow stronger. You must understand the importance of what I'm telling you."

"I have brothers," I mused aloud, my mind whirring, "How much stranger my life has become. I wish I had known them."

She knelt before me, and placed a gentle finger below my chin and raised it up. "This story is not over, dear Prince. It is now in your hands. There is one more thing, though.

"Mary has been cursed by Severa. In order to gain her freedom, Severa tricked her into making a dark and damaging decision. Her step mother, who had imprisoned her for years, was murdered—and it was the price Mary paid for her freedom. She is damaged very badly from this, but understands very little of it. Overtime, her heart will turn dark too—just as dark as Severa's. You must go to her. Only you can heal her, Adrian. It will take the remaining amount of magic inside of you to do it, but as is evidenced, there is a price for everything."

I nodded. Finally I could understand what had truly haunted her. Now it was up to me to make it right. And I would.

"There were others… There were spirits who lived in Blackhill. They were trapped there, but they took care of me. What has become of them?" My heart was beating wildly as all that she said sank in. I could feel myself becoming stronger again.

Pandora shook her head, her long blonde hair rippling. "Only after all of Severa's enchantments are undone could we know. It is possible they can still be liberated. I know the castle she imprisoned you in was stolen from this world, the land of magic. She kept many things she had stolen there, the spirits and you alike. Now that I am free of my own imprisonment here, I can help you stop her."

"I was never a prince," I said mostly to myself, "but I was their Master. And their friend. I must do all I can to help them, even now. Do you imply that you know of a way to stop the Enchantress?"

"It starts with the breaking of your curse, and the breaking of Mary's. Only after that will she be vulnerable enough to strike down forever. Even though she is my sister and I have loved her through her treachery, I have accepted that my time too has come to pass and I will do all that I can to right her wrongs."

"Then we must not wait any longer-" I tried to get to my feet, but the pain from my ankle deterred me.

Pandora beamed with delight, and waved her hand over my leg. The pain vanished. I stood up, a different person from the last time I was on my feet.

I am a Prince.

I have a father. I have brothers. I have Belle.

I have a chance. No more wasted time, no more doubting from here on out. My insides seemed to tremble with anticipation.

"Mary is at the royal palace. Do you think you can find it on your own?" The fairy asked, her eyes level with mine.

I nodded, my mind already preparing for the trip. I didn't have a plan, but I had a will. And it was stronger than ever before.

"Like I said before, you must not turn into the Beast again. You have control over it, no matter what happens," she reminded me.

"Thank you for helping me," I said. "I will head to the royal castle first thing."

"Beware, Prince. They do not know you there."

Her words struck me, for they were painfully true. But Belle would know me, and that is all that mattered. "We will meet again, I trust."

Pandora nodded. "That is true. Good luck, Prince."

I climbed back up the wall and through the looking pool and back into my world. The storm had died down, leaving nothing more than a light mist hanging over the trees and beyond. It was through this mist I would leave Blackhill behind forever, and never look back again.


	31. Chapter 31

He was almost a giant of a man, with a mane of wavy black hair and muscles threatening to rip his clothes from the seams. A pearly white smile he showed off as the crowd in the stands roared in applause.

"Gaspard! Gaspard!" They chanted his name with savage enthusiasm. This man accepted the cheers with a pompous air, brandishing his muscles for additional applause. His weapon of choice was a mace and a buckler shield. It was apparent from his lack of armor, as he regarded the audience with confidence and pride, that he felt invincible facing opponents in the dirt arena.

King Peter stood at the platform of nobles, overlooking the fighting space usually reserved for jousting tourneys. The sun shone upon his slim, but aging figure. Gaspard was below him, preparing to fight.

This was no usual tourney, though.

The King waved his hands for silence before addressing the excitable crowd. "It has been a long day of fighting, but this is only the beginning. Our reigning champion stands before us—but one last foe he must face before claiming the reward.

"The Beast is still out there—so do not treat this as a celebration, but as a mission that unites us as a kingdom to prevent the spilling of the blood of our people. I am choosing one capable champion to face the monster and defeat it once and for all. The rules are this: Bring the body of the Beast to my feet, dead. In a week's time. The winner of this tourney will take five hundred gold pieces as insurance, and will claim another five hundred when they bring back the trophy. Then I will knight them during the coronation of my son."

Standing next to me in the crowd was Stefan. I felt him cringe at his father's words. We were disguised again, watching the tourney from the stands among the village people. The challenges between prospective champions had taken place all day, and the giant man in the arena named Gaspard had defeated all in his path. I could tell Stefan was glad that his father was naming a champion to hunt the Beast, but there seemed to be a mysterious burden in his eyes that he would not speak of. But I noticed the way he sometimes looked to be in pain, though he spoke of that neither.

"Gaspard. You know, he eats three dozen eggs a day?" Spectators were chattering all around us in admiration of the well-known hunter and gentleman.

"Any girl would be lucky to marry him!"

Stefan gave me a sly wink as his father began to introduce the champion's opponent. Gaspard stepped to the side, his brow low and his charming grin wide as the stands fell silent.

On the opposite side of the arena, a lone figured emerged from a tent, dressed from head to toe in armor. They held just a sword. It wasn't cheers the crowd erupted in this time, but whispers.

* * *

The elf moved through the crowd like a shadow—one of one hundred, for the streets were milling about with villagers in an excitement like no other. The sound of drums echoed down the village pathways, drawing everyone in to watch the tourney.

The royal castle stretched into the sun, for it was built atop a hill so the villagers only had to look up to perceive it. Riss knew his way around, and so he moved toward the direction of the hill where at the base was a field where tournaments were always held. Comfortable deep inside his hooded cloak, he slipped through a sea of bodies to meet with another hooded figure in the midst of the crowd.

"Madame," Riss said by way of greeting, bowing his head.

"You've been gone a long time," Severa said sharply with an unforgiving stare.

"Why yes," he said apologetically, his tone light against his blackened lips, "it was difficult to find you this time."

"I've been away. And as you can see, things have gotten out of hand in my absence," the fairy spoke venomously, "and now my plan is in grave danger with the entire kingdom after my Beast. We must see what we're up against now."

Riss nodded in reply. "With my help, you will always be one step ahead. You know you've always had my full allegiance. Let us see who champions this tourney, and then allow me to do my part."

"Let's just watch and see how this goes, first." Severa said calmly.

They gazed on as Gaspard's opponent stepped onto the field, clad in full armor. Severa and Riss stood as statues, still and unnoticed.

* * *

The armored opponent stepped forward, sword in hand, never missing a beat.

King Peter appeared to hesitate before the scene; Gaspard raised an arm to show off his muscles one last time before the fight was to begin.

"And now we will witness the last challenge of the day," King Peter said loud enough for all to hear, "this fight will not be to the death—but don't hold back, for the Beast certainly will not. The fate of the entire kingdom lies upon the outcome of this tourney." He stepped back and took a seat upon a high backed chair, the nobles around him looking on in anticipation.

"This ought to be interesting," Stefan whispered.

Gaspard turned and regarded his opponent with ill-concealed doubt. Then, raising his mace high above him into the sun, he brought it down to the ground in front of his opponent with such a fury of might that it seemed to shake the ground.

The armored fighter did not sway—in fact, he seemed to have anticipated this movement by how fast his reaction was, as he dodged quickly past the hulking champion and nicked him in the leg with his sword. The armor did not slow him; the mysterious opponent began to circle Gaspard, his sword brandished before him, inviting a challenge.

It was obvious Gaspard, the reigning champion of dozens of fights, did not at all expect his final challenge to begin this way, and so his pride turned to displeasure. He charged his adversary like an angry bull. Pummeling the mystery fighter with his shield, Gaspard gained traction as the armored figure momentarily disappeared into the dust—but only to spring out of it seconds later with a revenge clubbing across his skull. The armored opponent darted just out of Gaspard's reach as the fierce champion reacted to the blow to the head.

"_Impossible_…" Stefan muttered in disbelief.

I watched as Gaspard finally gained control of his mace and swung it towards his opponent in fury. The armored figure did well with his sword; he blocked his mace's powerful blow, emitting a clash that rang out into the excited audience. There were a trio of girls among the sidelines of the fight, swaying and swooning at Gaspard's every move.

_Even if he loses_, I thought, _at least he'll still have many supporters._

But there was no doubt he was losing. The armored opponent had full advantage as he lunged towards Gaspard, showering him with blows from his sword, moving so quickly and skillfully that even a seasoned champion such as Gaspard could barely keep up.

The audience was hooting and howling at this sudden turn of events. Standing close to me, Stefan was captivated by the fight as well. Gaspard the fighter was growing visibly enraged at his opponent's speed and finesse—the armored stranger fought with purpose, it was clear, whereas Gaspard fought only for pride.

"Pride never wins," I murmured aloud. Stefan cast a half smile as he watched Gaspard lose his footing and fall into the dirt. The stranger brought his sword down hard onto Gaspard's shield, splitting it in half. Gaspard tossed it away from him and swung his mace low; his opponent jumped to avoid having his legs broken, and as he swung around once more, his sword met the mace in the air and another clash rang out into the crowd.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, bearing down hot on all beneath it. The fight dragged on and on, with the armored stranger always just ahead of Gaspard, who endured despite his disadvantage.

_Maybe I'm becoming wicked_, I thought to myself, _but somehow I hope Gaspard loses._

King Peter stood upon the platform again, looking on anxiously. None of the other fights had gone on for this amount of time.

"I think your father is going to call it," I noted privately to Stefan.

"He would be a fool not to," Stefan replied, "it is clear to me who the champion is. Soon we will have the Beast dead and the kingdom safe again."

If only I could remember what Beast this was.

* * *

King Peter waved his hands to signal the fighting to stop.

Gaspard was panting with exhaustion, anger sprawled across his face as he tossed the mace away from him. The armored opponent stuck his sword deep into the dirt.

Severa and Riss looked on eagerly as the crowd cheered wildly.

"Valiantly fought," King Peter appraised them sincerely, "and with an enthusiasm I haven't seen since my own days with a sword.

"The afternoon has grown long, but now I can see we have a victor. Champion, unmask yourself so we may all see who will be chief of the Hunt."

The armored stranger pulled off his helmet.

Severa breathed in with horror, her gasp cutting through the anticipated crowd like a whip.

"Is that the boy?" Riss whispered uncertainly.

The fairy grabbed the elf's arm and held onto it so tightly that he shrieked in pain.

Adrian looked up at the King through the haze of dust and sunlight. King Peter was momentarily silent as he observed the stranger, as if he forgot what he was going to say.

"It cannot be," Severa hissed through tight lips.

King Peter cleared his throat. "Champion, I invite you to dine with us at the castle tonight. This will be the final celebration we have before the coronation ceremony. After this, we cannot delay the Hunt any longer."

Gaspard threw Adrian a murderous glance before storming off of the field. The king did not seem to notice this—nor did anyone else, as they gazed upon the handsome face of this new stranger.

Severa turned to the elf, still clutching his arm with an iron grip. "Did you know anything about this?"

He frantically shook his head. "Not—not a thing, I swear. Well there was—there was one thing I did, in your absence… but it was… only to help."

And with that, the two hooded figures vanished from the midst of the crowd. No one saw a thing.

* * *

"_The coronation_," Stefan echoed under his breath with disdain.

I too, stared at the armored champion. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, and his green eyes shone in the sunlight as he silently regarded the king. He looked to be no more than a couple of years older than me. And as he smiled, I felt something in my heart that I did not perceive before.

"Who is that?" I asked Stefan.

The prince shook his head. "No one I've ever seen before, which is strange. He might've traveled here from a different kingdom. In any case, my father seems impressed for once in his life."

King Peter clapped his hands, and everyone else followed suit, praising the victor.

Stefan turned to me. "What do you say we get out of here? Let's go to the sea now."

I laughed. "Certainly you wish to be crowned?"

"Not at all. There are a thousand things I need to do before my father's crown ever touches my head. Mary, life is so short. I fear that if we don't go now-"

"That we'll never see it?" I finished for him.

Stefan sighed, and offered me a little smile. "Who knows. But it was you who first told me that you should seek your own destiny. What is keeping me here besides the promise of a fate I do not wish to have? I want to go away—and I want to go with _you_."

I took his hand. "We will go to the sea. I promise it. But I still don't know what happened to me here—and I _must_ remember! I cannot leave ghosts behind, for I may decide to never come back."

The prince embraced me gently. "You're right, I'm sorry. I've just been—well, be patient with me, is all I ask. When we leave, I do not plan to return either. I look forward to it every day."

The crowd around us had mostly dissipated as the tourney was brought to an end and the King headed back up to the castle with his company of nobles.

"Once last celebration tonight," Stefan said lightly, "will you join me this evening?"

"There's nothing else I'd rather do," I said, as visions of the sea rolled through my mind like the warm waves that would carry me to a new life. There was so much that I, too, was eager to leave behind.


	32. Chapter 32

The next time Marius paid a visit to Stefan, he entered through the door. Stefan stood before his window, watching the sun set behind the mountains in the far distance.

"Interesting day it's been," Marius spoke by way of greeting. He joined his friend at the window, squinting at the last burnt streams of light as they slowly crept away.

Stefan did not reply. His thoughts seemed to consume him.

Marius moved over to a chair by the fire and took a seat with an exhausted sigh. "There were two calls I made today; one to a guy who had gotten into a fight over an unpaid debt—bloody fellow, a few broken bones-, and the other to a man who had taken a beating from Gaspard in a tavern, and this was after he lost the tourney. Sometimes it is difficult to rid my nose of the smell of blood."

"You do them a great kindness," Stefan noted, turning from the window, "to bleed is an unpleasant thing."

"My friend," Marius began, rising, "I traveled some way to try to find answers for your affliction.

There was a pause.

"I will continue my search on the morrow." Marius' voice was solemn, reserved.

"No," Stefan said promptly, "there is no remedy. Every day I feel like I am slipping further away. I just want to face this with courage now."

Marius' fists balled up, "I cannot let you do that. You are my closest friend, and I am a _healer._ It is up to me to find a way—and I will. You must not give up."

"The only thing I'm giving up is what I don't believe in. I'm leaving the kingdom. Mary and I are going to the sea."

"But what about your father?"

"I couldn't care less about anything to do with my father. My mother and brother have gone to the castle in the mountains for the autumn. They have said their goodbyes to him already." Stefan's voice was tired and tinged with bitterness.

"So you plan on going to the sea with Mary. And then what? Does she know what's going on with you?"

Stefan shook his head, his face wrought with guilt.

Marius set his hand on Stefan's good shoulder. "Just because I'm letting you do this doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking for a cure. It's out there somewhere."

Stefan smiled reassuringly at his friend. "Even so, I do not have much time left. I hope you can understand."

"No one can understand death until they've faced it," Marius declared, "not even me."

The prince remained in his day clothes as the sound of music from the ballroom drifted down the hall and past his door.

"That's quite a party they're having for the Beast Hunt," Marius noted.

"You should've seen it," Stefan replied, buttoning his blouse to his collar, "it was unearthly. Who knows how long it's been terrorizing travelers through the woods."

"I've never encountered it myself. I suppose if I did, the village would have no doctor. Anyway," Marius brushed his robes straight, "I haven't been to a party in some time. See you downstairs." He exited quietly through the passageway.

Stefan felt at the bandage covering his wound. Tonight he felt dizzier than normal, and the air chilled him despite the late summer humidity. He would have to be careful around Mary, lest she fall into suspicion that something was wrong with him.

_There is nothing wrong with me._

_Nothing at all._

* * *

"I did not expect to be summoned by a fairy tonight, much less in my own castle," King Peter said as he entered his council room. He locked the door behind him to face the dark fairy he had first met almost a lifetime ago.

Severa stared at him coldly. "There was a time when fairies were respected above kings. Our power is still superior."

The king gripped one of the chairs lining the meeting table, and smiled as he looked down at his hands. "There are no fairies here. Why do you come?"

"Careless you have grown, and ugly you have aged," Severa said, taking a seat, "what a handsome mortal prince you were. Your charm enchanted the enchantless, my sister included. Everyone in the land of magic was so excited for your visits. And your gifts."

King Peter glanced over to her, the dark fairy he had met so long ago. He remembered her just as she was now—dark, proud, and unhappy. So unlike the others. He had spent many years among the fairies he loved. "I still don't understand why you have called me here."

Severa smiled. "Tell me, what do you wish for most in life?"

The king heaved a mighty sigh and poured himself a cup of wine. Then he took a seat across from her, his gaze meeting hers. They sat in silence.

"I wished for many things in my youth," King Peter submitted after some time, "All my wishes have been fulfilled except for one. That is how it is for most. Is there something in particular you are looking for? My mind cannot contend with fairy riddles as it used to."

Severa's smile never weakened. "You wish to go back."

"I _will_ go back."

"But what will you leave behind?"

The king shrugged, sighing again. "My son will make a fine ruler. I do not worry about this kingdom, if that is what you are alluding to."

Severa poured herself a cup of wine and drank it deeply. "I came to speak with you about fate. Yours, mine, and your sons'."

King Peter regarded her with a questioning look.

"Let's start with yours," Severa began, "let's go back to that time in the land of magic. Or better yet—the time you spent on the island. Has time worn your memory away?"

"Not a piece of it," the King said solemnly, "those were my most treasured days."

"Ah," she continued, "but you did leave them behind."

"I had to," he said, "my father died. My destiny was always to return here, no matter how far I traveled. But my time here is coming to a close now, as I'm sure you've caught wind of my son's upcoming coronation."

"Your destiny is in your head," Severa said coldly, "I have found it written nowhere. But I'd be happy to take care of that. Which leads me to the next part—_my _destiny.

"A thousand years I have lived and watched the world turn endlessly. I will not die in the same world I was born in—that much has been written. But I will leave fighting for what was mine; a world of magic, where the old ways reigned over the mortal and immortal alike. I will do anything I can to bring it all back, but my power is weakening. This is no secret. I have done things I am not proud of, but things I would still not change. Tell me: are you proud of your kingdom? What of this Beast you mean to hunt and kill—a creature of magic."

"That Beast attacked my son," King Peter interjected angrily, "and the truth of it is, there is no place for magical creatures here anymore. My son, the future king, was not raised in the land of magic. So he will not rule one. I will not try to change that. I'll return to the island and live out the rest of my days there, happy."

Severa smiled again, her eyes glittering, "Well then. That brings me to the next part: your son's destiny."

King Peter's eyes narrowed and he set down his cup of wine as suspicion began to take hold of his thoughts.

"You remember the sorcerer who recently escaped from your dungeons."

"I do," the king said slowly.

"He shot your son with a poisoned arrow. Your son is dying."

"How do you know this?!" King Peter thundered, standing.

Severa looked up at him calmly. "Because he told me. I am familiar with the poison he used. I was the one who originally introduced him to it."

"You keep a company of murderers and necromancers—this is a terribly, terribly grave crime. If you have him, you will return him to us so he may be executed." King Peter's voice was like the growl of a wild beast's.

Severa tilted her head with a slight frown. "It would have to be a solid trade."

"Trade for what?"

"I want the champion. The boy who you intend to lead the Beast Hunt. Give me him, and I will give you the Necromancer."

King Peter sat back, his face flushed and his brow beaded with sweat. "What would you want with him?"

"That's my business. But you will call off the Beast hunt entirely. Those are my terms."

"And what of my boy? You have played a part in this—certainly a cure exists somewhere for him. Strangely enough, he has not come to me about his wound."

Severa snickered. "It speaks for itself. And I don't hold myself accountable for his poisoned wound. He went after the Necromancer in the first place. The fault is his own. Besides, you have another heir, do you not?"

The king slammed his fist down hard upon the table. "I love both of my sons, title or no title. Stefan has grown to be better than I ever was or could be—and Richmond, not even two—has the strongest heart of a child I have ever seen-"

"The cure is beyond me, in any case," Severa interrupted, "but I do insist that it is in your best interests to call off the Beast Hunt and hand over the champion."

"I can sense there is evil at work here," the king snarled, "and I will take no part of it. If you withhold the Necromancer from me, there will be a war. Fairy blood can be spilled; I've seen it. And if you're so worried about the dwindling existence of magical creatures, than it is in _your_ best interests to heal my son!"

Severa abruptly stood. "Always a fool; I could tell it the first time we met! And a hypocrite—_how dare_ you stand before me and deny the old ways when your greatest wish is to return to the island and live in the land of magic! You would watch my world die!"

"You would watch my son die," the king said bitterly.

"He is as good as gone. I can give you the Necromancer and justice will be served—but you owe me the champion of the Beast Hunt. I will _not_ allow it to move forward."

"I want to know why you want him," King Peter insisted, "I've settled many deals in my lifetime and I have never fallen into a trap. You know he is replaceable to me—hell, there are thousands of hunters I can send after the Beast—which tells me he means something to _you_."

Severa stiffened. "I can see now that my time spent here is wasted. You will pay me back dearly for my time, and more."

The King shook his head. "You just don't scare me, Severa. You forget that I am the king, that I am more powerful than you and cannot be easily tricked. Be gone with you."

With a murderous look, Severa strode over to the door, but then she paused and turned, a smile creeping across her face.

"It's been twenty two years since you've been in the land of magic, isn't that right? Does it ever make you wonder what you left behind, what may have been taken? You haven't. You lose." The fairy exited, slamming the door behind her.

The king couldn't make sense of her words, but he knew immediately there was something important she was hiding within them. It was too late to ask, because she had disappeared completely.

* * *

I had an unexpected visitor before dinner that night. A soft knock came at the door, and as I opened it I found a vaguely familiar face. It was Tamsin, the noble girl I had met at the ball. She regarded me with a warm smile and a hug.

"I thought you'd be here," she said, "though I really must say, the circumstances of your presence at the king's castle has the whole kingdom whispering."

I nodded modestly. "It's good to see you again! Are you here for dinner tonight?"

She stepped into the bedroom, dressed fully in a lavender ball gown that hung delicately to the floor. "Yes, my husband and I," she said with a wink, "and I just had to come find you. No doubt it's the prince who is your escort?"

"Yes," I replied, blushing, "he found me and brought me back here after—well, that part we're still trying to figure out." I glanced quickly down at the silver ring on my middle finger. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to take it off. It was the only clue I had of what happened to me.

"I brought some of my dresses with me—would you like to wear one?" she asked, fixing her hair in the mirror, "I think we're just about the same size."

She helped me into a beautiful golden gown that hung at my shoulders and billowed widely from my waist.

"Mary, now that you're back, I'd like to ask you if you know about two girls named Anna and Didi. Their mother married the late Lord DeWitt." Tamsin began, taking a seat upon the window sill.

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

_Who?_

"That was my father," I said aloud, though my thoughts began to tumble wildly about in my head.

Tamsin raised an eyebrow. "So it is true that they are your step sisters?"

I looked to her desperately. "How do you know of this?"

"Because they attended Lady Cressy's wedding last week and as everyone was talking about you and the prince, they began telling everyone that their mother had you locked in an attic years after your father passed. Please, Mary—tell me this isn't true!"

I held on tightly to the bedpost. "Did they say anything more about their mother?" I asked meekly.

"Well, she died too not long ago. No one knows why. The sisters are about to have the house taken away from them if they don't soon pay their mother's debts." Tamsin's tone was sympathetic. I couldn't care less what happened to the house, I would never go back there.

_I killed Lorna._

"That's very unfortunate," I said calmly, "I'm sure they'll be able to figure something out."

"It's a scandal!" Tamsin insisted, "they can be arrested for what their mother did to you, and for squandering your parent's fortune. Aren't you going to say something to the king?"

I feverishly shook my head. "No… no. Some things are better left behind you, in the past. I want only to move forward with my life."

Tamsin clasped my hands in hers. "You are very, very brave. I know Prince Stefan will take good care of you here."

"He has," I said thoughtfully, "though I don't know why he has done all of this, really."

"He must love you," she said simply. I looked to her in shock, but Tamsin just shrugged. "How else would he express it? Hell was raised in your absence. Do you think maybe it's your fate to be together?"

There was suddenly a sharp tapping at the bedroom window. Startled, we turned our heads to perceive a black bird outside, flapping wildly and rapping against the glass with a rolled up piece of paper attached to its wing. With a hesitant glance to Tamsin, I arose and moved over to the window, unlatching it and letting the bird fly in. Tamsin gasped in surprise and drew away from the creature as it landed before the fireplace, squawking madly.

Unsure of what to do, I knelt over it and picked at the ribbon upon its wing, releasing the letter. It fell open upon the floor, and the bird was just as quickly back in the air. He fluttered out of the window and into the twilight.

Tamsin and I exchanged a curious glance as I reached for the letter and picked it up carefully.

There was only one thing it said.

_Belle—look for me tonight. I promise we will be together again soon._

I looked up at Tamsin again, who was peering at me in confusion. "Sorry," I said, my mind racing, "what did you ask?"


	33. Chapter 33

I stood upon the steps beneath the night, staring out into the vast garden before me like I had the first night I came here, before I lost my memory. As I peered up into the stars I wondered to myself, how did I get here? And why didn't it feel right?

Stefan was fantastic, and I couldn't deny that somewhere in my heart I wanted nothing more than to be with him always. But there was something else there, overpowering that feeling- and I could not identify it all. I had somehow lost so much without being able to understand what it was, and the feeling suddenly broke my heart.

I couldn't blame myself for running away. The world around me had always been so confusing, and it made me feel sorrowful. Even here, surrounded by the prince and all his people, I was alone.

I spent my time outside of the ballroom, away from the others. I wasn't hiding, I just had so much on my mind to clear. I wouldn't want to face Stefan, either, as I was. I knew we both held great secrets, but ultimately that is what divided us.

I could suddenly feel tears in my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away so no one would see.

That's when a stranger stepped out from the glow of the ballroom and approached me with a strange sense of urgency.

"Belle," he said immediately, his face only vaguely familiar, "it's me! Are you alright?"

I stepped back as he came nearer, startled at his suddenness. It was a boy, taller than me, with dark hair and green eyes.

_The champion of the tourney._

"Do we know each other?" I asked with hesitance and doubt.

He cocked his head, seemingly taken aback. "Belle, don't you recognize me?" he stepped even nearer, reaching for me, "I've been waiting to find you again, safe-"

"My name is Mary," I interrupted, stepping away again. "I'm sorry, I think you're mistaking me for someone else."

He paused, gazing at me intensely. I turned to go, embarrassed.

"Wait," he said quickly, reaching out to me, "I don't understand. Belle, look at me. How could you have forgotten?"

_Belle_. The name from the mysterious letter I received earlier. This had to have been the sender, the champion of the tourney. How could he think I was her?

"I'm very sorry," I said sincerely, attempting to pull away, "but I am not who you are looking for-"

"What have they done to you?" he exclaimed, his eyes flashing with anger, "Something has happened."

My insides felt like they were freezing up. His tone affected me greatly, and somehow I just could not seem to face him.

The stranger put his hand upon his heart. "It's me, Adrian."

I shook my head as I stared back at him. "I'm sure we've never met."

In a flash he was right before me, his hands clamped desperately onto my arms, "Remember me, Belle! Remember Matilde! And Louis! And Barney! Remember our promise and your dreams and how you broke my curse!"

The few people who mingled outside the ballroom began to take notice of us. My heart beat so wildly that I began to feel faint, wishing that Stefan or some familiar face would intervene.

"I knew as soon as you went missing that the Enchantress had interfered," the boy continued hurriedly, "but we promised we'd fight her no matter what. You have to try to remember!"

"I can't!" I exclaimed finally, "I ran away from here and lost all traces of my memory! Please, leave me be—I can't—"

"_Belle_," he said, his voice shaking, "You can't forget me. Look at your ring, Belle! You're wearing it, the same one as me!"

"_My name is Mary_!"

The boy looked at me with such hurt in his eyes that I began to consider that there was more to this than I understood. I glanced at his hand—he was, indeed, wearing a silver ring, the same one as I. My eyes lingered upon it for a half moment before I turned away and went back into the ballroom. I had to get away from here. I couldn't take any of this anymore. My life made no sense, and I couldn't think straight.

There was a mass of bodies in the warm, brightly lit ballroom. I slipped through them, unsure of where I wanted to end up. I made my way to a large cylinder pillar and rested against the back of it, facing away from the party. Here, I caught my breath and gathered my thoughts.

First: Why would that boy think my name is Belle?

_Why, why why? What could it mean?_

Second: He was wearing the same ring as me, and it was the only clue I had of what happened to me. Was he a friend or foe?

Third: Who am I really, anymore? With everything that had happened, maybe I _have_ become someone else.

"I ask only for you to face me once more," a voice came from around the pillar.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. "Even if we know each other, it's hopeless."

"Impossible," the boy said from the other side, "I know you, even if your name isn't really Belle. You have to at least try to believe it."

"And why do we continue this riddle?" I asked him.

"Because I saw you once, and I knew it would be you who would save me. And you did. I cannot lose you again."

"What if it isn't me you're looking for?"

The boy stepped around the pillar and was before me one again. He gazed at me profoundly, as if he could find the answer in my eyes. "I don't know what has happened to you," he said softly, his voice somber, "but it _is_ still you. Belle. Mary. You are the girl I loved and swore myself to. And now it's up to me to save _you_."

I shook my head. "I've already _been_ saved. I'm safe here-"

"The Enchantress is somewhere here too," the boy interrupted, "I cannot stay. But I'm not leaving without you."

"Where are you going?"

"We're going home," was all he said.

I was speechless as I perceived the fire in his eyes, the sincerity of his words. Was he a madman, or was it me?

Suddenly, the boy looked around as if he felt eyes upon him. He turned to me, "I have to speak to the king. I will come find you again as soon as I can-"

I quickly shook my head, "I don't think so. We'd better not speak again. I can't remember you, and it hurts too much to try. I'm sorry."

He reached for my arm, and I drew away. I regarded him icily now, determined to drive him off.

_I can't take any more of this. Not one bit._

He stiffened and fell silent as I made to leave. "I really hope you can find the girl you're looking for," I said. I moved quickly across the ballroom where I could see Stefan enter. When I looked back, the boy had disappeared.

Stefan noticed me right away. "Mary, is everything alright?"

I swallowed hard, nodding my head wordlessly. But the night had only just begun.


	34. Chapter 34

Time stopped completely.

Belle was walking away, her dress trailing behind her. She stood as a statue among a glittering hundreds, her back turned to me as the atmospheric orchestra music fizzled away and was replaced by a hallow silence. Everyone in this castle was suddenly frozen, except for me and one other.

I halted at the sudden change, my beating heart increasing speed as the enchantment washed over me. Not too far from where I stood in the vast and shining ballroom, the Enchantress made her appearance at last. She stepped out from behind a small clump of guests, statues who were now seemingly toasting to a frozen eternity. Her boots clicked against the marble floor as she slowly approached.

"I am glad you have frozen time this way, as you now allow me the opportunity to tell you that my curse has been broken. No doubt this is why you have confronted me here." I stood my ground, my words as high as my pride.

The Enchantress' otherworldly face peered into mine, her enigmatic gaze always chilling me deep inside. Somehow now she frightened me less.

"I'm disappointed in you," her voice was a hiss, "I would've made you the most powerful king there ever was. You could've saved the land of magic, and the old ways. You are killing it all as you defy me."

"I could forgive you for the curse you put on me, but not for Belle's. You will pay for what you have done to us." My voice came through my teeth, and I faced the Enchantress for the first time with an advantage.

"It does not seem that way, prince," she said in an amused tone, "in fact, I have come to make an offer to you. You know you are a prince, now. You can make grand decisions."

"And I think I have," my voice seemed to fill the frozen room, "I'm going to meet my father, and he's going to help get Belle and I as far away from here as possible. Somewhere you'll never find us, and I will never have to think of you again. You no longer control me, Severa. Belle broke my curse. I am of no use to you, and therefore I will be saving this kingdom by leaving entirely. Just so we're on the same page."

"Mary cannot remember you. The spell placed upon her is old and strong. You will be alone in your flight." Severa circled me slowly, running her hands across the frozen guests, they oblivious to her touch or even that they had been frozen at all. I kept my eye on Belle's figure, not far away from where Severa hovered.

"So it _was_ you! Tell me what you did to her!"

"It's _done_, you fool," she snarled, and then her voice lightened, "but I am willing to take it back."

My hand was upon the hilt of my sword, my fingers tightening with compulsion. "You'll never take it back."

"I will lift the enchantment if you agree to serve me and ascend the throne."

I shook my head, scowling hard. "You don't get it, Severa. I'm free. I am no more your pawn to move."

She narrowed her eyes. "You place a curse upon yourself, leaving here alone. It is your path to choose."

I _couldn't_ leave without Belle. I would never leave her behind, especially not the way she was now. And she was my strength. But to become again Severa's prisoner for the rest of my life? I would surely rather kill myself.

Severa took notice of my indecision. "If it's a war you want, a war you will have. But your father will die, and your brothers too. Belle would be the first one to go."

My dream of running away with Belle was gone too soon. Everything we did together, it only led us to this trap. Severa would never truly let me go, and this was my fate. The fate that had won.

"Sacrifice is the only way," Severa said softly, "Join me, and she will remember. It may be of little comfort to you, but I imagine it would be better than—well, _being forgotten_."

My hand remained clutching the hilt of my sword, and all around me seemed to be crashing down, the very fabric of all my hopes torn away and set into flames.

How had it come to this?

I remembered the first time I saw Belle in the looking pool. It was the same as I had seen her just now. She was wearing a golden dress and my ring was on her finger. She was smiling, and she was radiant. Only one thing was different in that vision; a rose bud had been tucked behind her ear. As I had just seen her, it was as if the first time again. The girl who had given me hope, the one I knew I wanted to be with always.

I reached into my pocket as Severa stood before me, waiting for an answer. The rose bud was there, a velvety treasure I had not before noticed. Of course it was there.

With a final glance at Severa, I slowly stepped over to where Belle stood frozen, when she had been walking away from me. She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, and I realized then that she'd never really be mine. No matter how hard I could ever fight for her. Not anymore.

I tucked the rose bud behind her ear.

"I will love you forever," I whispered.

She would never hear it.

I turned to face Severa. I could feel life draining from me. "I've given up on everything. Do with me what you will."

The Enchantress nodded, her eyes glittering, and then we were gone.


	35. Chapter 35 updated and complete

The fairy and the king met again for the first time in many years, in the king's private study.

"I'm afraid that this is not what you wanted."

King Peter shook his head in response. He was slumped in his chair, staring into the fire before him.

"But I did grant your wish."

He looked up at the fairy, the very first one he had ever seen. "You did. I would never take it back."

"Have you kept the map safe? I told you it cannot fall into the hands of any other."

King Peter nodded. "I only ever kept it to myself. I wonder yet, was that a mistake?"

"No," said Pandora, "and things have changed since I told you that those many years ago. It is time that you pass the map on to another."

The king did not understand, and his mind was overcome with grief over Stefan's fate.

"Surely you know by now about your other son," Pandora remarked.

"Which of my sons do you mean?"

"The one who was born on the island, after you left. You have no memory of his mother there, because you took a spell by your own will to forget her. But I believe it was, indeed, your wish to be connected there forever."

King Peter stood immediately, his mind racing. Her words were true, he knew. Somehow he knew there were things he had chosen to forget, memories he shrouded in darkness. They were his secrets. "I have a son," he whispered to himself in disbelief.

"A son with both magic and royalty in his blood, and he is in great danger."

"What has happened to him?"

"Severa has claimed him for her own. She laid a great curse upon him, forcing him to become a beast so he would be enslaved by her will. He's lived in an enchantment for ten years," the fairy explained, "And I might add, your majesty, you have even met him."

"The champion of the tourney," King Peter said aloud, though it was his first thought. He didn't know the boy, but he perceived his eyes. His own green eyes that even Stefan did not have. It had been prophesized that he would give a son eyes as green as his own, one day. "But he did not appear in danger. What is his name?"

"His name is Adrian. Severa has taken hold of him again already. When you sought a Beast hunt, it was your son that you targeted. He is still bound to that curse."

King Peter gripped his chair. "How could this have happened… I have been a failure of a father to all of my sons. Everything I have worked towards has come to nothing. Please, Pandora, tell me what I can do."

"There is a girl here by the name of Mary. She can control your son's curse, but a spell has been put on her like the one you put on yourself. She does not know who he is."

"That is the girl Stefan pursued the hunt for. The Necromancer shot him with an arrow while he was gone, and he is now dying. I need to help them both," King Peter insisted.

"If we can get Mary to remember Adrian, it will be enough to weaken Severa to the point of defeat. As for Stefan, there is one thing I can do for him. That, however, will remain between him and I. The question you must ask yourself is what will _you_ do?"

"Anything," The King said earnestly, "I will make things right again."

"Would you give up your dream of returning to the land of magic?"

He stared at her blankly for a moment. It was an idea that had never passed his mind before. But now that he knew there were memories there that he had chosen to forget, it seemed foolish to go back. He had already lived his dream. "Yes," he said at last, "even that."

"Then it is done," Pandora stood tall, "go to Stefan; he must know he has a brother."

* * *

Stefan stumbled out into warm, overcast courtyard where few guests lingered. His heart was beating painfully in his chest, and a terrible buzzing in his ears seemed to be coming from the pain produced from the hidden wound itself. The veins around his shoulder were turning dark, and growing outwards every day. Surely the infection was slowly making its way to his heart now.

There had been a glimmer of sadness in Mary's eyes that had prompted his nausea. He looked at her in the ballroom, and there was rose bud tucked behind her ear. He remembered how he had picked a rose for her the first night they met, and so remembered what it felt like to be alive and happy. Something he could never be again.

And then he heard a voice he had hoped to never hear again.

"Son," it was the king. He regarded the prince in the darkness, the two unnoticed on the far side of the courtyard against the garden's shadows. "It was brought to my attention today that you emptied your bank account."

Stefan regarded him defiantly. "I've made my choice, father, and I'm leaving."

"You're dying, son. I know you can feel it. Is this why you want to run?"

Stefan wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily, "I've always wanted to run. But this is my reason. If I go, I know I will never have to return."

"I have come to tell you that we are in great danger," the king said hurriedly, "and I urge you to abandon these plans. You have a brother who has been enslaved by the Enchantress. There is a plot to dethrone both you and I, to be replaced by your brother under her control."

Despite his illness, Stefan managed to offer a bewildered gaze.

"I know it sounds like madness," the king continued, "but if we don't act together, this will surely happen."

"I have a brother?"

King Peter nodded.

"How old is he? Who is his mother? Where has he been all our lives?"

The king heaved a sigh, and placed his hand on Stefan's shoulder comfortingly. "He is just a little older than you are, but my mind has been weighed down by a spell that does not allow me to remember him or his mother. He was born on the island."

There was a pause.

"If he's older than me," Stefan said slowly, "he would be your first born. First in line for the throne." Stefan looked up at his father, a wicked half smile adorning his normally handsome face, "if it's the throne he wants, he can have it! It's his by rights! And to think, father—all my life I have been tortured with this burden of ascension and it was not my weight to bear!"

The king recognized the bitterness in his son's voice. "It's not that simple! He has no free will—this is a dark plan to change our world entirely—your brother has magical blood in his veins; the Enchantress can do great and terrible things with him."

"What would you have _me_ do?" Stefan's tone was harsh, and he was immediately overcome by violent coughing, hunched over with his hands on his knees. "You said it yourself, father, I'm dying. Can't you just let me go? I'm not giving you a choice!"

"It's me who's giving you a choice," the king persisted, "I think we can save you. I was visited by a fairy I had met in my childhood today, and she is the one who told me of your brother. It was a wish I had made so long ago that I would be forever connected to the island and the land of magic, and so it has been done. She might be able to help you, and if she can, how will your plans change?"

Stefan stared at his father for a long moment.

"They won't," he said simply. And then gathering himself up again, Stefan walked away.

* * *

Stefan had excused himself from the ballroom rather quickly. I could tell something was amiss, though I didn't want to ask him—especially not with what was on my own mind, as I was overwhelmed with secrets.

Tamsin found me in the crowd. "I believe I just spotted Didi," she whispered to me.

_My step sister._

"Has she seen me?" I asked quietly.

Tamsin shrugged. "We can take a walk if you like. I could use the fresh air."

I shook my head. "Thank you. I think I have to face her though."

She raised an eyebrow. "Face her? After what she and her mother did to you?"

My hands were already clamming. "I've been running from them for a while now. I don't even know where I've been. This may be the right thing to do."

Tamsin linked her arm with mine. "So be it," she said, "I'll accompany you then."

I couldn't find the words to justify how good it felt to suddenly have a friend. So we began to traverse the ballroom until we spotted Didi, sitting by herself, away from the dances.

She knew me immediately, and was visibly surprised. Here I was, dressed like royalty in the king's castle, rubbing elbows with the aristocracy. The last time she had seen me I had run away.

"So it is you, then," Didi sneered as I approached, "the prince's true love. The one everyone is talking about."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," I said.

Didi stood. She was wearing one of Lorna's old dresses, and had one of her brooches hanging from a chain around her neck. She was the image of my late step mother. "_Hear_ about my mother?" Didi's tone was sarcastic, "that's surprising, since I'm sure it's _you_ who killed her!"

Tamsin stepped between us. "How dare you make such accusations, especially here in the castle with so many listening. You tread thin ice!"

"I know she was murdered," Didi pressed, standing her ground, "and if anyone wanted her dead, it was her!" She pointed to me.

_It was me, it was me, it was me. I killed her. It was the price I paid for my freedom. I didn't have a choice._

"I never touched her-"

"You didn't have to," Didi interrupted, "there were poisonous mushrooms found in her tea. It had turned the water gold. My mother died a horrible, agonizing death. Does your prince know what you did?!"

_Golden mushrooms? Why do they sound so familiar and frightening?_

One of the prince's men stepped up to us from out of the crowd. He was tall, lankly, and always dressed for action. "May I ask what is being discussed here?"

Tamsin turned to him eagerly. "This girl," she indicated to Didi, "is suggesting that Mary has committed a most grievous crime. Her accusations are false!"

Lance looked to me with curiosity. "You're the girl Stefan went after."

I nodded, looking away.

"She did it!" Didi exclaimed, "she killed my mother!"

Lance shook his head. "There has been no indication of any such thing. This girl is here under the prince's personal protection."

Didi stomped her foot. "Where is the prince? I demand to speak with him!"

Lance quickly glanced around. "Good question; where _is_ the prince?"

"I'm going to tell him" Didi continued, "he'll know what you did, Mary. You may look innocent and dumb, but deep down your heart is black!"

What she said struck me greatly. I looked at her with tears in my eyes, and when I tried to speak no words came out of my mouth. What could I have said? I was guilty. I traded Lorna's life for my own. It was the fairy's agreement.

"I think it's time you leave," Tamsin suggested to her.

Lance nodded in agreement, and took Didi by the arm. "Allow me to escort you."

"No!" Didi wrung her arm away from his grasp, "I have a right to speak with the prince!"

"I don't think Stefan is feeling well," I said quietly.

Lance appeared concerned. "Okay. I'll go look for him." He turned to Didi, "First, I'm taking you home."

Didi didn't have time to respond; Lance whisked her off through the crowd, away from Tamsin and I.

Tamsin turned to me. "That must've been _awful_! Are you alright?"

I nodded, but it was a lie.

Suddenly, Tamsin dropped into a curtsey and bowed her head. "Your majesty," she said.

I turned; it was the king himself. He was looking at me.

I, too, dropped into a curtsey.

"Mary, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"May I have a word?" He looked somewhat like Stefan, only older and worn out. I couldn't fathom why he wanted to speak with me, and I feared the reason.

"Certainly," I replied nervously.

"Somewhere private, I think." He suggested.

I turned and gave Tamsin a fearful glance before following the king back through the crowd.

* * *

"He was the champion of the tourney!' Stefan heard his father yell as he walked away, "we must find him! He is your brother- his name is Adrian!"

The ill-fated prince threw off his coat as he made his way back down to the village. Returning to the ball was out of the question now; if Stefan turned back, he knew he could no longer hide the fact from Mary that he was dying. He was not ready to face her this way.

He headed for the village. He discarded all items of clothing that distinguished him as royalty. Stefan decided that this was the last night he'd ever be a prince.

The suffering he felt was electrifying. With so much pain driving him towards an inevitable end, he walked among the cobblestoned streets of the quiet village with nowhere in particular in mind to go. The moon was now peeking out through heavily compressed clouds, lighting many paths that he could follow…but it happened to be a distant sound, musical in nature, that he gravitated towards.

Stefan traversed past the empty houses of the working class while clutching his shoulder in agony, heading towards the center of the village. There seemed to be nowhere else to go. Whatever tune was playing in the distance, he felt that moving towards it decreased the pain he was in.

He stopped in front of a tavern buzzing with villagers who weren't invited to the celebration at the castle. The regular folks. There was no doubt music coming from the inside, wafting into the street like magic. Stefan made his way past the rowdy bunch of drinkers in the doorway and found a lone empty table inside, the rest of the seating filled with people chattering loudly about the earlier tourney. No one would recognize him to be the prince here. He was no longer a prince anyway. All the money he had left fit into his pocket, so he ordered a drink.

The tune was coming from a seat by the fireplace. Stefan turned his head discreetly to perceive a small crowd of men gathered together around one man piping away at a flute. To his greatest surprise, the prince realized the musician was the loser of the tourney; Gaspard.

If Stefan's brother was really the champion of the tourney, than he had not long ago just watched him defeat that man. The idea seemed to numb his mind. Everything was beginning to feel…less real.

As soon as Stefan received his second drink, the music stopped.

"I'm the strongest man in the kingdom, and none can deny it!"

It was Gaspard's voice, the boisterous man. Stefan glanced over his shoulder to see the giant man standing and grinning wickedly at the growing crowd around him. He grabbed a mug of beer from the table before him and swigged it down. The mug made a clattering sound as he dropped it, and exclaimed, "Everyone here knows it; am I not the best hunter there is around?"

"Yes!" his drunken audience chorused, raising their mugs in salute.

"And am I not the true winner of the tourney? I was cheated by a slaggard!"

"Yes!"

Stefan finished his second drink and requested a third.

"The prize and position is still mine to take!" Gaspard continued loudly, "and take it is what I'll do!"

The men roared with laughter and toasts. Stefan kept his head down, thankful that the seizing pain from before had finally lessened again. He tried to tune out the racket, but the brash voices of Gaspard and his crew filled the tavern.

"The tourney is not over! I will claim my prize as soon as I find the thief and take back what is mine. I may just even leave him with a pair of working legs, but I will definitely break both of his arms!"

The prince stood. He calmly set down his ale.

"Where do skinny villains go in the night?" Gaspard asked loudly, laughing. "I'm going to find him and beat his pretty little head to a pulp."

"I'd bet he's on his way up to the party by now!" one of the men shouted, sloshing his beer onto the table as he spoke. "Dancing his peacock off with the king!"

Stefan gritted his teeth. The pain was making him crazy and he was now intoxicated by the ale and the adrenaline. These men had said enough.

Gaspard stepped forward, raising his fist. "Who will join me? We'll take over the Beast Hunt on our own! Anyone who gets in our way will be considered fair game!"

"That's right!" a chubby little man piped in, "Gaspard will show them who the best hunter is in the kingdom." His laughter was the snorting of a pig.

Gaspard puffed out his chest, his voice deep, "I will pay back that street rat for taking advantage of the king's favor. If it had been a _real_ fight, he would have had his face in the mud before drawing his sword!"

Stefan did not know Adrian. But he remembered how valiantly he had fought against Gaspard. He fought with purpose, and that is why he had won. If he had known at that time it was his own brother, he would've felt _proud_. And now that he knew his brother's purpose, anger jolted through him.

And it was then Stefan realized he needed to protect his brother.

"You!" Stefan stepped forward, his arm extended as he pointed directly at Gaspard, "Face me!"

Gaspard, who was poised at the center of the crowd with a mug raised high and a grin plastered across his wicked face, momentarily froze. His eyes fell upon Stefan as the confused group parted before him.

"I'll fight you," Stefan stated with conviction, striding over with his hand on the hilt of his sword, "and then you can shut your mouth about the winner of the tourney being a cheat. I'll prove that not only he beat you fairly, but that I'll do it as well. And then everyone can see whose peacock will be dancing with the king tonight, as soon as I cut yours off and parade it up there myself."

The mug once held high came crashing down, shattering across the floor as Gaspard wiped the beer from his chin and swung hard at the prince. Stefan braced himself, and rammed his good shoulder deep into the giant man's body, and they crashed into the tables behind him. The bar then erupted into complete madness.

Stefan seemed to perceive very little of all that was going on; it was that he had finally snapped. With the familiar burn of his mortal wound setting his blood afire, the prince pursued Gaspard with a single thought on his mind.

_This is for threatening my brother._

Gaspard _was_ the strongest man in the kingdom—but only physically. He was not the bravest, smartest, kindest, richest, or even the most liked. For those who had the ability to see through his charming façade, one may even feel sorry for such a brute of a person. But the prince would never feel sorry for him, especially as they tumbled into a cabinet of silverware that went toppling over, covering the floor with forks and knives.

It was all the tavern crowd needed to join in on the fun. Knives and forks began to sail through the air as fights sprung up in every corner, Stefan and Gaspard at the center of the calamity in their own personal war.

"I have never lost a fight," Gaspard growled, reaching for Stefan and seizing him painfully by both shoulders, "and no amount of yellow bellied fools will change that!" His head smashed into Stefan's, and the prince was knocked backwards, seeing stars.

Stefan blindly grabbed for a stool as Gaspard lunged in for another blow, and as the meaty fist came sailing his way, he let the stool fly into the giant man's head. The stool broke, and Gaspard was then no better off than the prince himself.

The tavern keeper, a stout man with a scowl on his face, was yelling at the scene before him, standing on top of his bar with his arms flailing about. One of Gaspard's big men picked the man up and began shaking him. Gaspard spit out a tooth coated in blood and drew his sword at last. Stefan gritted his teeth against the pain coming from his shoulder and reached for his own. He could feel blood gushing from his nose.

The swords clashed against each other furiously. The pair dueled through the bedlam surrounding, overturning tables and chairs in their wake. Stefan fought a nasty fight, but naturally Gaspard performed even nastier. It was the small, fat companion of Gaspard's who intervened.

Legau snuck up behind the prince and leapt onto his back. He placed his hands over Stefan's eyes, snorting and laughing at Gaspard's advantage. Stefan twisted his body wildly in an attempt to throw the small man off before Gaspard could stab him. It was then that the weight was suddenly lifted, and there was Stefan's head guard, Lance, throwing himself between him and his opponent.

"You will be executed for assaulting the prince!" he exclaimed, crossing swords with Gaspard as quick as lightning. Stefan shook his head wildly, placing a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Hold back, Lance! This is something I must do."

Gaspard stepped back, momentarily confused. He peered at Stefan closely. "I don't believe it."

Stefan wiped blood away from his mouth. "Lance, I'm dying. I've rescinded my title as prince. This is the one last thing I have to do."

"_Prince?_" Gaspard sneered.

Lance lowered his sword. "Dying, your majesty? It can't be true!"

"It is," Stefan insisted, "you are no longer obligated to fight with me."

Gaspard began to chuckle slowly, "What is this? The kingdom is weakening at my hand!"

The brawling in the tavern began to subside. Stefan perceived his old friend with sorrow. "I hope whatever happens after I'm gone, this kingdom stays good and just. I know you'll be a part of that."

"If you're not a prince any more- _than fight me!_" Gaspard interjected, "and we will prove once and for all who the true champion is!"

"Please, as a friend I ask you to go back to the castle and look after Mary. Tell her I'm sorry for leaving. I'm sorry for everything. I'm going tonight." Stefan said to Lance, picking his sword up from the floor.

"You are in no condition to fight," Lance responded sternly. Stefan lifted his sword, ignoring him, and faced Gaspard again.

"It was my brother who defeated you," he said to him, growing dizzy on his feet, "and—"

Stefan's knees buckled. Trembling, he dropped the sword.

"Your majesty!" Lance moved towards him quickly.

And then the prince lost consciousness.


	36. Chapter 36

I followed the king away from the party. There were two of his men in our wake.

_What could I have done that he wants to speak with me?_

The music from the ballroom faded gently behind us as we walked briskly through the castle halls, our own party of eerie silence.

I raked my mind for any possible wrongdoings I may have committed—and then realized in horror that I had been with Stefan when he had given away all of his money in the village. Surely the king wanted to ask me about it—but where was Stefan?

We traversed a tower and entered a room that overlooked the outer-lying gardens and hedge maze. To my surprise, King Peter dismissed his men and instructed them to wait outside the door. I looked around; this room appeared to be a private study. Formal meetings would never be held in this small, disorganized space.

The king nodded towards a chair next to the window and near the fire for me to have a seat. I slid over to it quietly and sat up straight and still, waiting for any further indication of why I was there.

"Don't be nervous, child, you are safe here," he began calmly. The king began searching through a deep desk drawer for something. I watched him curiously as he pulled out a sealed envelope and tore it open, taking out its contents: a piece of parchment paper folded up like a letter, and a small vial. The king scanned the letter's message privately, his face unreadable, holding the vial in his grasp.

After an extended moment, he set the letter down upon his desk and then took the seat opposite of me. "Tell me, Lady Mary, might you have any magic in your blood?"

I stared at him blankly. _What kind of conversation is this going to be?_

"Not that I know of, your majesty," I said.

He twirled the vial in his hand, peering at it oddly. "From what I have heard, you are a remarkable girl."

I blushed. _Heard from whom?_

"I was brought here by your son," I explained in my best manners, "and he has given me safe haven here while I-"

"—try to remember?" he finished, giving me a knowing smile.

"Yes," I said honestly, unsure of what he knew of me or how, "something like that."

The king's eyes locked onto mine as he looked at me profoundly. "I know you've forgotten something—something very important to you. I know the pain of wonder, and bearing that missing piece inside of you can be most afflictive."

I nodded, our eyes still locked in an odd gaze. "You've forgotten something too?"

"I've forgotten something very important," he responded mildly, "but I chose to do it. It was a curse I placed on myself. You did _not _choose to forget, and therefore you are the one who deserves this." He revealed the vial to me as it rested in his palm. As I studied it, he said, "I've hid this serum for almost a lifetime. Its power is to conquer such forgetting spells and bring back what was lost."

I looked up at him, startled, my heart beginning to thump.

"But as I said," the king continued, "I had made a choice. This serum won't work on me. It's you who must drink it."

He placed the vial into my hand. I gaped at it, afraid and intrigued. And then a terrible thought crossed my mind. "Your majesty, what if I _had_ chosen to forget?" I remembered the face of the boy who pursued me. He insisted that I had forgotten him, and so I wondered if it was true.

_But he didn't even know my name._

"Then, I'm afraid, all hope would be lost," he answered.

_Meaning?..._

The vial was small and delicate in my palm, and the liquid inside amounted to no more than a few drops. It was obviously a rare item, one to treasure or pay a huge price for. And I had nothing to give.

"To remember," I murmured aloud, "could be a curse."

"Oh, no," the king replied immediately, shaking his head vehemently, "to forget will always be the curse. And to forget who you are is the worst of them all."

I could feel in my heart the truth of his words. My eyes fell upon the silver ring I still wore on my left hand; how badly I ached to know why I wore it.

_Then it is time to remember. _

I opened the vial and poured the contents down my throat, and then I felt as if I were falling.

Images rushed through my head like ghosts rising from their graves. I heard the screaming of a boy, and perceived him transforming into a terrible beast. There were warm, loving faces surrounding me—faces of enchantments who did not know they were dead. The image of a portrait that depicted two fairies returned to my mind, like the golden mushrooms I had almost died from eating. There was a castle, black and mysterious. The looking pool was where he first saw me. He gave me this ring in the rose garden.

_Who? Who was that?_

The whirring in my mind came to a complete, sudden halt.

_Adrian._

I returned to full consciousness screaming.

The king took my hand, "Calm down, it's okay! It's okay! Tell me what you remember!"

I jumped to my feet, panic rising inside of me, threatening to spill out with all my sanity. "Adrian!" I exclaimed, "I forgot Adrian! Please—there was a boy here earlier, he had won the tourney-"

"Yes!" the king said quickly, "he is my son! It was you who broke his curse, was it not?"

"_Your son_? What do you—yes, yes he was once cursed but we defeated it, only not the Enchantress herself… He's gone now—_I must find him_!"

"I will help you," the king said intently, "and now that you remember, Severa will surely be dealt with soon."

"You know?" I asked him, confused and preoccupied with panic. How much time had I lost? Where was Adrian now? How could I have forgotten him?

_Stupid girl! The answer was there the whole time!_

I looked down at my ring again, the one he had given to me as a lover. My eyes welled with tears of sorrow. How painful it must have been, that I did not know who he was. It was the sort of hell one could not fathom.

"I am Adrian's father," the king said, "I only learned it today. And he is in great trouble, and so is my kingdom and my two other sons. The fairy said you could help me by remembering what happened."

_Adrian's father? The king? That would make Adrian a prince, and I always knew he was…and not only a prince—but Stefan's brother, too._

The world; the strangest place I had ever encountered, growing stranger every day.

But I could remember now.

"Did you say fairy?" I asked, my memory piecing itself together gradually, "which fairy?"

There was a peculiar sound of bells—a sound I had heard some time ago. A spark of light materialized before me, and a voice came with it. "We meet again, Mary." In a flash, my fairy stood before me again—beautiful and glowing, as I had remembered her.

But my memories of her brought on fearful thoughts. I stepped away, "You tried to kill me with golden mushrooms," I said incredulously.

"No, that was my sister, Severa," she trilled, "I'm Pandora. She enchanted herself to appear to you as I did once she locked me away. And then she cursed you and made you believe the mushrooms would save you later."

_Sisters. Pandora was the light fairy, and Severa was the dark one._

"Mary," Pandora said, "your destiny was written so you would go to the ball and marry the prince, leaving your imprisoned life behind forever. But I had to change it. That is why you had those dreams about the lost prince, and that is why you met him and broke his curse. Severa couldn't foresee that. I am sorry for the part you had to play in this, but you will save so many now. You are to be a hero."

If what she said was true, than I had been destined to be with Stefan, originally, just as my mother had wished it. But Stefan was no longer my destiny, and Adrian was. That was why I had become someone else, someone named Belle.

_You are still Belle._

"Severa killed my step mother," I suddenly realized aloud, "golden mushrooms had poisoned her tea. I was tricked into believing it was my fault."

I involuntarily began to pace, my mind racing.

"Everything I had run from was just an illusion. I didn't have to leave myself behind—because I'm not a killer!"

The king and the fairy beheld me silently as I spoke, furious tears streaming down my face. "I hated myself to the point where I couldn't even tell Adrian who I really was. I was so afraid, and he was the only thing I trusted… and then I just saw him, and I turned him away!"

I turned to the others. "We have to help him. Please," I spoke in sheer desperation, "Please, I need to find him right away, or it may be too late!"

"His curse," King Peter said, stepping forward urgently, "it is broken, isn't it?"

"Severa cannot make him change into a beast," Pandora said calmly, "but she will have other ways of drawing it out of him. I don't know where she has taken him, but we must start looking at once."

I wiped the tears away from my cheeks, trying to catch my breath again.

_I'm so sorry, Adrian. I failed you when you needed me most._

At that moment, a dark bird landed upon the windowsill of the tower, squawking once to draw attention to itself. I glanced over at it, another stream of memories flooding through my mind. And then it winked at me.

_That clever bird…_

"I think I know how to find him," I said.


	37. Chapter 37

I gazed out of the window at the courtyard below, where the king's men were gathering. They were going to follow me to wherever Adrian was, and I would follow the raven. The bird remained perched upon my shoulder through the night, rubbing its face against my cheek anxiously. I held it close as we anticipated the journey ahead.

I had to wait until the king was ready for me to go. One hundred men were coming after me at a distance, and undetected, behind me. If I ran into any trouble they would be ready to strike at a moment's notice. The Enchantress was powerful, but we would corner her, and I would come out with Adrian by my side.

_And I won't leave without you._

I changed into travelling clothes and cloak, and ate little of what was offered to me. I stood at my window as the sun rose. I had expected to see Stefan, but he was still missing from the night before.

Had the time ever passed so slowly before? I paced the room for hours, waiting for word from the king. With every moment that slipped by, I was without Adrian. And he was all I could think of anymore.

_It'll be just like you said in your note_, I thought to him tearfully in my mind, _will be together again soon_.

I would face the Enchantress no matter what the outcome. And I would be leaving soon.

_Soon, soon. If only the king will have everything prepared for the siege in time…_

* * *

As the sun peeked over the hill, Stefan was drawn back to the world. He blinked into the light, his mind a blank slate.

"Ah, great! I knew this would properly revive you!" Marius exclaimed, kneeling at his side after had just poured a heavy dose of medicine down his throat.

Stefan stared up at his old friend, bewildered.

"What is your name?" Marius demanded.

"Stefan," Stefan rasped.

The healer narrowed his eyes. "And no longer a prince, I've heard."

"That's right." Stefan sat up, squinting into the rising sun. "Where are we?"

Marius glanced around, as if he'd forgotten. "This was the only place we could go last night with Gaspard and his band of heathens rallying to smash you to a pulp. You were in and out of consciousness for most of the night, but refused to be taken back up to the castle."

They were in a small field just upon the outskirts of the village. The sounds of the kingdom awakening met their ears already.

"Lance is coming back with food. He saved your neck."

Stefan nodded solemnly. "I was not myself," he admitted aloud, "but myself I never again will be. I have something to do today."

"Besides get some rest and put an end to this madness?" Marius asked hotly.

Stefan looked at him sharply. "I'm going to go find my brother."

Marius cocked his head, "Richmond? Is he not in the mountains with the queen?"

"Not Richmond," Stefan replied patiently, "I have another brother who is destined to rule here. A fairy witch has him captive. It was he who won the tourney yesterday."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Stefan admitted, "but this is something I need to do. And then I'm leaving. Will you help me?"

Marius took his friend's outstretched hand and squeezed it tightly. "I will help you. Besides, there's no way you can get through this without a healer."

Lance approached them across the field, his arms stocked with bread and cheese. As they ate, the sun moved above the trees and warmed the dampened grass. Stefan had regained most of his strength.

"I'm going into the village and will need to investigate some," the former prince explained, "Lance, as I told you last night, you are no longer obligated to fight with me."

"I will fight with you anyway," Lance pledged. "It should also be of note that your father is gathering one hundred of his men in full armor. Do you know anything about it?"

"How do you know this?" Stefan asked, suddenly much more alert.

"A soldier met me in the village. They've been preparing through the night."

Stefan stood up, shaking off the last of his weakness. "It sounds like he's expecting trouble. There isn't much time left. My brother is imprisoned by the Enchantress and there is a plot to put him on the throne under her control. I have to do something about it. Wherever she has him, I believe it's near."

"You want to free your brother who will wreak havoc upon the kingdom?" Lance asked.

Stefan looked at him intensely. "He's my brother. If I were him, I'd wish he'd do the same for me. Besides, I can feel in my heart that this is something I must do—what greater indication can I recognize?"

"None," Marius said, standing up, "and it sounds like there's more to this story than we know. Finding him _would _be key."

"Time is indeed of the essence," Lance conceded, "if I know your father, he is like a snake in that he is not afraid to strike without hesitation. His men will be ready to move out soon, wherever they are going, we need to be ahead of them."

Stefan swallowed down the rest of his breakfast. "Walk with me through the village. I have a hunch."

The trio wore hooded cloaks despite the morning's warmth as they entered the town square. Going unnoticed was the best plan, as Gaspard and his gang were no doubt still searching for Stefan after the previous night's events. And if Stefan was recognized, there would be trouble.

"Who are we looking for?" Marius whispered.

Stefan ducked into a deserted street behind some shops, and the other two followed suit. He glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard before lowering his hood. "There is a strange being dwelling here in the village. He is not one of us—you'll be able to tell right away. His lips are black, his face is long and pale and he is a shady figure."

_Where did I last see that elf?_

The elf was trouble. Stefan knew it the moment he came upon him on the road in the forest. Mary had not forgotten who she was before he saw her with that elf. Now that he was aware of the dark politics taking place in the kingdom, the image of the elf struck him as highly suspicious. And he had seen him again, that day him and Mary had spent together in the village passing out gold. Stefan hadn't said anything, as to not alert Mary, but the elf had been seemingly trailing them through the village that afternoon. Stefan had seen glimpses of his pale face and blackened, smirking lips.

That elf was nearby still, he could feel it.

"If we find him, we take him." Stefan said.

Marius had a ponderous look about it. "You're referring to a dark fellow, not quite human?"

"Yes."

"Well then I've seen him too. Over in the South Quarter; I made a call yesterday to River's Inn and saw him there. Hard to forget such a mystifying specimen," Marius explained.

"I encountered him with Mary; that's how I found her," Stefan said quickly, "She had lost her memory when he turned her over. Fitting, isn't it? If I find out he hurt her in any way, his punishment will be grave."

The South Quarter was a portion of the village where all travelers and traders lodged, for it was closest to the river that flowed into the neighboring kingdom. Marius and Stefan scanned the streets for the elf, but it was Lance who spotted him.

"Stefan-," he hastily drew the others into a narrow space between two shops, "could that be the fellow?" Lance pointed to Riss, making his way down the path.

"It is," Stefan said confidently, "just wait until he passes."

Riss was light on his feet as he strode by the trio with no notice of them. Marius reached out and grabbed onto his hood, causing the elf to be suddenly yanked back off his feet. In a flash, Lance's arms were around his neck and Stefan bound his hands tightly. The three of them managed to smuggle the elf away from the streets and out of sight.

Stefan brandished his sword as Marius and Lance held Riss against the trunk of a tree.

"It's time to come clean, dark elf," Stefan snarled.

Riss perceived him with bulbous, fearful eyes. "I know not what you speak of! I assure you I am an innocent servant carrying out my mistress' tasks. She would not be happy to learn of this circumstance."

"Mistress?" Stefan replied venomously, "it is of the fairy you speak, is it not?"

Riss narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I recognize you. You are the prince!"

Stefan moved the tip of his sword to point directly at the elf's neck. "Take me to where she is hiding my brother. You will get us there safely if you want to be let go."

"I may get you there safely," the elf sputtered, "but you won't come out again. My mistress is powerful and unforgiving!"

"Don't worry about _us_," Stefan replied curtly. He turned to the others. "We've got to move fast. Are you both armed?"

Lance had a sword, and Marius had his medicine kit. With all confirmed, Stefan was prepared to fight one last time.

* * *

My head rested against the window that revealed the deserted courtyard beneath. The castle was quiet, and my eyes began to fall shut periodically. I had been waiting for what seemed an eternity for word from the king.

A sharp rapping upon my door jolted me awake. I hurried over, pulling it open to behold the head of the king's guard dressed in full armor. He inclined his head with respect as I regarded with wordless anticipation.

"If you are willing, the king is ready for us to proceed now." He said to me.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The raven flapped his wings, coasting over to perch upon my shoulder.

"_I will show you the way,"_ it whispered in my ear.

I looked to the guard, and nodded. Had the bird learned to speak, or was it all in my head?

_Either way, you'd be a fool not to listen to it._


	38. Chapter 38

They walked away from the village, past the edge of the forest and towards the region where land meets rock. The river ran through the mountains and into the next kingdom, emptying itself into the sea far beyond. The mountains were greatly uninhabited, except for the fortress high above that the royals could retreat to for the winter.

"Where are we going?" Marius demanded to the elf.

Riss was bound tightly by rope, but led the way silently ahead. "My mistress dwells in the land of magic," was all he said.

Stefan and the others exchanged confounded glances, but continued on towards the looming rocky terrain ahead. Visions of what could be waiting for them ahead passed through Stefan's head.

_If I'm to die anyway, it doesn't matter how. As long as I do everything I can to free my brother so he can take my place._

They met a wall of solid rock. Clouds above them began to darken the sky, and the scent of rain was not far off. Riss stopped in front of the wall, and turned to them expectantly.

"You need to unbind me for us to get in," he said.

Lance looked to Stefan for an answer.

"If you untie him, I'll stand behind him with the sword," Stefan told him.

Once this was done, Riss turned back to the rock and placed his hand upon it, murmuring an unintelligible incantation beneath his breath. The stone began to glow faintly.

Marius stepped back as a soft rumbling sounded from beneath Riss' hand. The three watched in a silent awe as the stone before them cracked and crumbled. Riss waited patiently as a crevice large enough for a man to climb into formed, creating a passage to get inside.

"We will need a torch," Marius whispered to Stefan with concern.

"Well then, we're just going to have to try to conjure one within the _land of magic_," Stefan replied with a sarcastic wink.

Marius shook his head disapprovingly as they followed Riss into the caliginous innards of the stone, wherever it led. At first, the darkness consumed them entirely. Stefan held on tightly to his sword, adjusting his ears to the new reality around him. Lance had a tight hold on the dark elf as they stood in a stark silence.

"Where do we go?"

"The way is forward," Riss spoke through the blackness, "and you lead yourself towards death."

They felt their way up the path. The walls were damp, but they seemed to shimmer subtly. There was just the smallest amount of light hanging in the air that they could see their way. And then the path widened and opened into a cavernous hall that was lit up by enormous crystals. The hall was impossibly big, and there were many different doorways to go through in the distance, if one were to actually dare cross the vast expanse of floor.

Stefan stepped forward. "I think we've made it," he said incredulously.

"What are those?" Marius asked, squinting into the distance.

There were shadows sprawled across the hall, silent and unmoving. A wide grin made its way across the captive elf's face, though no one noticed.

Stefan proceeded through the dimness, his eyes adjusting to the dark. "They're… statues."

Gripping Riss tightly by the rope, Lance followed Marius after Stefan towards the looming figures.

Stefan leaned forward, letting his hand drift across the stone face of an old man, posed as if in sleep, or as a dead man standing. The appearance of the statue did not match that of any he had ever encountered before. "This one is strange," he murmured aloud.

Marius peered at it closely. "Maybe we should keep moving."

"There are dozens," Stefan noted, pointing across the hall. "And I agree;" he turned to Riss, "you will stay with us until I find my brother. If you try to run, you will be handed over to my father when we get out of here."

The trio headed towards the end of the hall, where new passages emerged through the shadows. As Riss stumbled behind them, pulled by the rope, he reached out to one of the statues and ran his hand across it as they went. The statue opened its stone eyes.

"Have any idea which way?" Marius asked as they stood in front of three doorways leading in different directions. At this side of the hall, their original entrance was again lost in the shadows. The middle passage seemed to lead up, and the two on the outside wound off in separate ways.

Stefan squinted at the options. "I'd reckon the middle passage leads straight to the fairy witch. Traditionally speaking, that is. Her prison would be below, so either the left or right path could take us there."

"Left," said Lance.

Marius shook his head, "Right!"

There was a heavy pause.

"Well," Stefan began, "let's think this through first. The truth is, we have no way of knowing where any of these paths lead. But I'm ruling out the middle one. I just don't like the look of it. So, let's consider the left. It could lead to where my brother is imprisoned, or somewhere else entirely. I realize now how unprepared we are."

Another pause.

"Anyway, I would like to run into the least amount of hazards possible. I am not strong anymore-"

Lance and Marius exchanged troubled glances.

"—but this is what's left of me and I need to go forth. Which way do we vote?"

An audible shifting in the distance interrupted their decision making. The trio turned their heads in silent anticipation as one of the frozen figures, once still, came shuffling toward them, its stone arms outstretched before it.

Stefan gripped his sword tightly. "Halt!" he commanded as the statue drew nearer.

The statue's eyes were open, though unmoving. It appeared to be the image of an elderly priest.

Lance stepped in front of Stefan with his sword at the ready in one hand, and his grip tight upon Riss with the other. "It's enchanted!"

The dark elf was chuckling deeply as the statue advanced. Stefan threw him a venomous glare. "Destroy it!"

In one fluid motion, Lance lunged forth and ran his blade into the statue's neck. It promptly crumbled to the ground in a dim haze of rock powder. From the remains, a foul odor wafted out through the hall. It smelled of death.

"What was that?" Stefan asked sharply, turning furiously to the dark elf.

"I am a servant of this realm. I will bring upon you all perils that you seek to overcome in protection of the Enchantress. These are some more of her servants," and Riss nodded into the darkness at their backs. Two more statues were shuffling their way, arms outstretched.

Lance was already moving toward them again. He slashed them just the same as the first. "They're easier to strike down than men," he noted.

Again, Riss threw his head back and laughed.

"But there are more," Marius whispered.

It could've been ten at least, emerging from the shadows now.

Lance and Stefan stood back to back, swords raised. Marius took hold of the rope securing the elf.

"What if they don't stop?" Stefan whispered to Lance.

"Then you must go on by yourself while I fight them," Lance responded underneath his breath as they drew closer. "It would not be wise to spend your strength now."

There was no time left to spare; the pair dashed into the crowd of statues, blades glinting in the dim light. Stefan beheld each stone face with confusion before placing the fatal blow. There were all sorts of faces—but strangely human. _Could these statues have been once truly alive?_

Once he struck down one, another seemed to rise in its wake. The entire hall was coming alive.

Just then, the prince heard the sound of a struggle. He turned back towards the passages; Riss was taking advantage of Marius, attempting to strangle him.

"Go!" Lance yelled to him as he disappeared into the midst of moving stone. Ducking beneath outstretched arms, Stefan rushed to his friend's aid. The elf had twisted the rope around Marius' neck in an attempt to break free. With the hilt of his sword, Stefan clubbed him unforgivingly across the back of his head. The elf collapsed beneath the blow, relinquishing his hold upon Marius.

Marius gasped for air, his neck lined with red welts. Stefan clasped his hand tightly and brought him standing again. "My friend, this place may be the last of us. Take my sword, I have to move on. The statues can be defeated with your help."

Marius nodded wordlessly, and stumbled into the dark vastness towards the fight. Without a moment's hesitation, Stefan turned and charged down the left passageway.

* * *

I walked ahead of the king's men, though not even I could detect them behind me. They were far behind and moving in secret. The bird communicated to me to head into the forest and down the hill towards the village. I recalled the path I had treaded with Stefan when he travelled in secret. How strange it felt, to know him so well only to find out he was Adrian's brother.

_I have loved two princes._

But there was only one prince I was meant to be with, _and I am looking for him now_.

The village came before me, and the bird directed me away from it by whispering to me upon my shoulder. I walked along the woods for some time, my heart pounding heavily at the fear and anticipation I felt. I was preparing myself to realize I was too late; that I had failed to save Adrian. The fear of it was agonizing. But, maybe I wasn't too late—_maybe, if I just continue forth I will find him again and we will make the impossible true._

"Where are you taking me, bird?"

_"To the land of magic."_

I could see the terrain ahead become rocky. Mountains loomed in the distance; I perceived them with a shiver.

_"We are nearly there."_


	39. Chapter 39

The cavernous halls twisted deep into the stone, seemingly going nowhere. Stefan followed the path he had chosen, though the physical effort was draining him quickly. The wound upon his shoulder began to throb with the immeasurable pain offered by a sure demise. The flickering shadows were now cast by torches upon the wall. The air was stale, and Stefan struggled for breath as he continued on into the heart of this secret fortress.

Then he heard music. It was as the night before, when he had wandered the streets of the village- a sound that he wasn't sure existed, but it reached from some immeasurable distance and drew him towards it. Stefan walked on and on, the corridor stretching forever ahead of him. It was after sometime that the pathway became slick with water. As far under the rocky terrain as he must have been—unless he was somewhere else entirely—it was no surprise that this cave-like dwelling had water filled passages. As he sloshed through it, he realized that the water was impossibly cold as it rose up to his ankles. Stefan's head throbbed with an oncoming fever; the sickness was taking hold of him again. It occurred to him that it may be necessary to stop and breathe before continuing on.

_I am losing time… Marius and Lance are still back there, and I will not last much longer._

But it wasn't a choice.

Stefan slid to the ground, his back against the stone wall. Every passing second was more difficult than the last. His lungs drew ragged breaths, every muscle ached and his shoulder was burning hotter than ever before.

_How could I have gotten so far only to let it end here?_

His hair stuck to his dampened forehead and the prince suddenly keeled over in pain onto the floor.

To his surprise, the water on the ground wasn't cold anymore; it was now impossibly warm and frothy.

_Like the sea._

The corridor around him vanished, and Stefan found himself floating.

He lay upon balmy, delicate waves, facing up into the brilliant, hot sun. An infinite stretch of blue engulfed him, and a mysterious deep was all that held him up. All thoughts drained from his mind and so he allowed himself to float in a hollowed silence, helpless and oblivious to this new and enigmatic circumstance. But he could only feel happiness, as if he could've never imagined something more beautiful than this; it was the sweetest of all fates. He was finally away…far, far away.

_If only Mary were here._

He welcomed the scent of salty air as a cool breeze rolled over him. The waves cradled his limp and tired body—and for the first time in a long time, Stefan felt free…

…And then there was a discarnate voice, just there inside his head: _Do not be deceived. The sea is still a great distance from here._

_Why should I care? I can feel it now. I could stay here forever._

-_That is what the Enchantress wants. You must fight against it._

_I don't have to fight anymore. I'm dead._

_-It is an enchantment. You must wake up!_

The sky above was sprawling, and it was nearly tangible. Stefan would only have to reach up to touch it, to run his hand through the pale blue heavens. The gentle water cooled his neck and soothed his once agonizing shoulder. Here, it hurt no more. He felt no pain at all.

-_The one you seek is just around the corner. You have enough strength left in you._

_If only that were true. I was never as strong as they thought I was. Even now, when I feel no pain. I can't go back._

_I can't go back…_

_-The sea is waiting for you. Open your eyes._

* * *

Upon his revival, Stefan gasped desperately for air. His clothes were soaked through, and they clung frigidly to his skin. The pain in his shoulder returned with the fury of the arrow itself, when it hit him and buried into his flesh and spread the poison. But then he remembered he was still alive.

Stefan was on his feet, and moving forward again in a flash. The corridor ahead was shrouded in shadows, but he could sense a turn in the distance. As soon as he rounded the corner, he at last perceived his brother's prison.

Had their ever been a stranger confinement?

The room was enormous—akin to the hall of which he had first entered. It was so enormous that the ceiling was lost above in darkness, and the floor too stretched into a vast oblivion, as if there were a black veil draped over part of the room. Stefan cautiously stepped inside.

"Hello? Is there anyone in here?" his voice echoed deep into the impenetrable space.

He looked around him; everywhere the light touched only illuminated a large emptiness. Before him, where the there was no light, lurked a silent presence. It was secret and unmoving.

Stefan stepped towards it slowly, reaching out as if he could simply peel away the veil of darkness. There was no response. After numerous moments of a stark silence, the prince could only hear the sound of his heart beating.

And then there was a voice coming through the darkness; "If you step any closer you will fall in to the pit."

Stefan froze. The dark encompassed him; but he squinted down and noticed finally that there was indeed a wide pit at his feet. He could not tell how far down it went, but the voice below him had seemed sort of distant. Carefully, Stefan bent down and sat at the edge of the dark pit, leaning forward to try to catch a glimpse of whoever was down there.

"Who goes there?" he called. If he could see his voice, he would watch it sink in the depthless pit below. But the darkness was impenetrable.

"I am the one who changes into the Beast, and that is why I am down here. Why have you come?"

Stefan strained his eyes towards the direction he perceived the voice to be coming from. It chilled him to picture someone down there, alone in the dark and silence. "Is it just you?"

A brief moment of silence. Then, "Yes."

Stefan stood again, and took a glance around the rest of the room. "Could there be any rope around here?" The room was so vast and strange—half in light, half in darkness; surely there would be nothing of practical use around.

"There isn't," said the one at the bottom of the pit, "But I urge you to leave here and have nothing to do with it. If I get out of this pit, I'll turn into the Beast and you will die."

_Beast._

He had seen the Beast only once, and very briefly before being shot unconscious with the arrow. The Beast was his brother's curse, Stefan suddenly realized.

"Don't worry," Stefan said solemnly, standing at the edge of the pit, "I've come to get you out of here. My name is Stefan."

* * *

From the bottom of the pit looking up, I surveyed my stranger through the unearthly light above. He was the very image of me—but also, enormously different. He was me, as if I had lived another life entirely. Same stature, build, complexion—even our facial features were strikingly similar. I knew just by looking at him that he was my brother.

And it was the worst possible thing I could ever conceive.

"No," I said quickly, my mind falling into despair, "You need to leave here and save yourself!"

"I'm not," he said simply. "Either you come with me or we can _both_ die here."

My heart beat wildly in my chest; Severa was willing me to change into the Beast. Every passing second became more difficult to resist the urge, and when I gave in she would again regain her power over me. Even worse—it was my brother she intended for me to kill, above all others. His place on the throne was what she obsessed over, and my potential to take it. It was to save Belle and my family that I allowed myself to stay in this pit as long as I could.

Stefan took a seat at the edge again and peered down at me, though I know it was impossible for him to see anything.

"This pit is fifteen feet deep," I explained sincerely," In my human form, I cannot breach it. If I change, I will claw my way out and tear you to shreds. I beg you to protect me from doing that. Your very presence puts us both at a great and terrible risk. I cannot control this monster well anymore."

"I cannot imagine what you feel," Stefan replied quietly, "this world can be so unfair and cruel. I myself have felt myself fall away from it all. The colors I once loved and admired have turned grey, and not even the sound of music comforts me anymore. There was a girl I could've loved, and now she too is far out of my reach. The age old question goes: when you've got nothing left to lose, what do you fight for? It has led me here."

I gazed up at him for a long time. "Fighting the Enchantress is my final plan," I responded, "and if I turn into the Beast, she will have won. It would appear there is no way for us to both get what we want."

Stefan leaned forward. "You won't turn into the Beast."

I shook my head at no one. "You are mistaken."

"Our father once told me, many years ago, that all a fairy needs to exist is for one person to believe in them. In a single, ordinary person's capacity of belief- a world full of magic is created. It's the impossible made possible. Something from nothing," Stefan spoke devotedly, "and he believed in many fairies.

"Anyway," he continued, "I don't believe in the Enchantress, but I believe in _you_, because you are my brother. I came all this way to tell you it. And that's how I know you won't change into the Beast."

I could almost feel the itch. It was right there at my brow, threatening a twitch. If I reached for it, then I would make it real, and I would turn. But I stole my mind away from the idea quickly. I looked back up at my brother.

_To be believed in, is a great and terrible thing._

He really did look just like me. That was all the amount of impossible I could imagine alone.

"Okay," I finally said, my mind racing again, "you are sure I won't change—but there is a great possibility that I will. If that is the case, your only defense will be to run. At that point, I can only hope I have enough control to aid you rather than kill you. I will have to face Severa right away; do you know the way out?"

Stefan gazed down at me nonchalantly. "Just follow me. I'll show you the way."

"Right," I said, the adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins, "the only measure of escape for me is if you fill this pit with water. There is a levee above; it can easily be broken. The Enchantress fashioned a switch herself, in case she would decide to let me out."

"Where is it?" Stefan was on his feet now.

"If I am correct, it should be on the wall near the entrance. Once the levee breaks, it will flood not only the pit but also this entire room and surrounding corridors. We will be safe once the path leads back up."

Stefan stepped away from the pit; I could no longer see him. His footsteps faded into the distance, and then only moments later he returned again.

"-Did you find it?"

There was a harsh cracking noise far, far above me. We both looked up into dark beyond, and cold drops of water suddenly met my face. Then the water came crashing down with a crushing force, breaking through the levee with more power than I had anticipated.

My eyes, nose and mouth were suddenly full of it as the pit began to fill. I tried to catch a breath, but the water was coming down too quickly and too furiously. My limbs flailed in the commotion as I struggled to keep above the flood…

I lost control of my body as the water consumed me and lifted me up. The light that I had seen above was now obscured in the icy chaos around me- but I somehow did not change. And finally, I felt a hand suddenly grasp mine and I was pulled out of the pit and onto the solid ground.

Stefan met me face to face as I gasped for air and struggled to my feet. Before I could speak again, he was drawing me away from the rising water.

"Run!" I sputtered as he hesitated to assist me. The water was past our ankles as we stole into the corridor.

Up and up we went. The stone labyrinth that fortified the Enchantress's secret dwelling twisted around us in every direction. Stefan did not stop for a long time, and when he finally did, we were so far from the pit that the flood could not reach us.

He leaned against the wall, trying to take hold of his ragged breathing. Up close, he looked as if he had been through a measure of brutality.

"My companions are clearing the entrance hall. There were statues that attacked us, coming to life—but I looked one in the eye; I thought I could sense a soul inside of it. Is it possible there are others here to save?"

I nodded. "There are hundreds. But only can Severa's undoing liberate them. Now that I know she can't change me, I can destroy her once and for all."

Stefan straightened himself out. "I must rejoin the others," he said, "but if you choose to pursue the Enchantress, I'll make sure the way out is cleared. We can meet back at the entrance; I need to head there to make sure my companions are okay."

The path ahead split into two; I perceived it with a slight emptiness in my stomach. I looked back at my brother, who I just met for the first time. "Thanks for what you did," I said to him, "I couldn't have made it out of there without you."

Stefan half smiled in spite of himself. "I only made you believe in me the same way I do you. When you meet our father, you can tell him there was at least one thing I never forgot. Also, we have a very young brother named Richmond. He'll be a better prince than I ever was, and he will look up to you."

And then it clicked; Stefan was running away. I wanted to say something to change his mind, but we were not given that chance.

"I wish I had more time to know you," I told him before we parted.

"Don't worry, brother," he replied mildly, "this was probably the best we could ever do."

And so I went my way, and he went his.


	40. Chapter 40

Severa's fortress was a labyrinth of stone and crystals. The walls were tight, making it difficult for mortals to breathe. She hated mortals, and that was because everything she ever loved was dead. But there were people I loved too who were dead, and they were the ones I was seeking.

I could hear their voices from the pit. I had waited in the dark and silence, listening for Severa and anticipating her next move. She, however, had gone oddly undetected—and it was the familiar sound of voices I knew that seemed to play with my mind. There were no words I could decipher from the sound, but it was the tone I knew right away; and there were hundreds. The spirits of Blackhill were here in Severa's fortress somewhere.

I scaled the hallways—these were unfamiliar. The only castle I had ever known was Blackhill, and this fortress within the land of magic was an entirely separate creation. I retrieved a torch from one of the corridors to light my way as I gravitated towards the voices. The halls were long and enigmatic, and this was meant to be disorienting.

_How have I not come upon the Enchantress by now? Surely she knows I've escaped…_

It was for certain. Severa was the most treacherous guardian I could have ever been cursed with, for she watched constantly. Her control was frightening, and I feared it to be my one weakness. She made me doubt myself in an unforgiving way. I hated her so much it scared me.

There were stairs, stone and steep. They curved as I climbed them, and at the top was an unlocked set of doors. And then a room full of light.

I stepped inside, for this is where they were. They were everywhere—floating all around me in soft wisps of golden light. The spirits hovered and glinted as they whispered to each other excitedly. I gazed at them, unsure of what to say.

_"It is the Master. How nice it is to see him."_

_"Is he aware of the state of the castle?"_

"I'm here," I said aloud. In response, the celestial, star-like embodiments rotated around the wide chamber, encircling me with warmth. I heard them all at once, and what strength it suddenly gave me… "I'm sorry this has happened to all of you." It was all I could say just then.

"_It's about time you found us_!" this was Barney's voice alone.

I managed to smile as the lights grew brighter. The ten years I spent at Blackhill, I never understood it to be a home. It's what tied me to the Beast, and so I hated it—but it was the prison I shared with these spirits who nurtured and sustained me as I grew. I watched as they glowed around me, wondering if that was all that was left of them. "I thought you should know, the Beast is no longer a part of me. It's gone forever. Now, I can set you all free; please, tell me how."

"_You know by now, of the magic inside you_," Matilde's familiar voice echoed from above, "_it would be the cost of desolating the Enchantress. It is an agonizing choice to make, my dear."_

"It wouldn't," I immediately replied, "I'd easily give up my magic to kill her. I never knew I had magic and I never knew I was a prince. These things do not matter to me. But you do. You are my family, all of you. I will see you out of here."

"_We regret having to share a prison, but we rejoice in doing so_," Louis spoke, his voice echoing gently through the room, "_whatever happens to us, and whatever happens to you, young Master, you will know that we are so proud of who you've become_."

I thought I had become completely numb after my encounter with Belle. Like if I allowed myself to feel something again, I would lose all control. And then I met my brother, and he cared for me in ways I could not understand—and whatever it was, it made me stronger. And here, surrounded by the spirits I had cared for and known for what would be the last time, I returned to myself.

"So is that all? I use my magic to defeat Severa?"

"_That's it_," this was Barney's voice, "_and to you we will always be grateful_."

I nodded, my mind awash with anticipation. "Then I will do it now. I can face her myself. And if everything goes accordingly, this will be our final meeting." I spoke these words with a heavy heart.

"_We are all ready to depart_," said Matilde, "_But did you know? You won't have to face the Enchantress alone. Belle is here!_"

I froze in shock.

Could it be true? Does she remember me now?

"I'm afraid that's impossible," I said carefully, "Belle doesn't know who I am anymore."

_ "Not everything is as it seems. Go to her and see for yourself_!"

"Thank you," I said, my legs automatically moving me towards the door. When I stood at the top the stairs, I turned back to them one last time. "Farewell, my greatest friends."

* * *

We came upon the entrance to the land of magic, the bird and I. I stood at its front, peering in to the darkness with hesitation. It was quiet and blacker than I thought possible.

_Well then, here goes nothing._

I felt my way down a dampened path and after some time I entered a hall, tremendous inside and hauntingly empty.

"Has something happened here?" I whispered as I moved, quiet as shadow, across the strange room. It smelled of death, if mortality ever had a scent. The bird did not answer, though it nodded its feathery head straight ahead to indicate the direction I needed to follow.

There were three possible passages. For no reason at all, I chose the middle. It led up.

I don't know what I expected. The ascent was a metamorphosis; from a cavernous dwelling within stone, it became a castle. I could sense that this place was heavy with enchantments as I followed the path that turned into steps, and the space around me widened and brightened. By the time I reached the top I was facing what I knew to be a throne room, and the bird was suddenly gone from my shoulder. He had vanished as I stepped into the hall.

What I saw was a long stretch of floor in an open room, and at the other end was the Enchantress herself, sitting upon her throne, watching me.

* * *

Stefan met his companions before he reached the entrance hall.

"You there!" Marius called from up ahead the corridor, "You are alive and so are we!"

Lance stood at his side, battered but whole. Stefan received them with great relief.

"I found him!" he said hurriedly, "I did what I said I'd do. Now we need to get out of here."

"Well where is he?" Marius asked.

Stefan shrugged. "There are more prisoners here. He has gone to find them. This place is full of perils."

"Indeed," said Lance, "we've cleared the entrance hall at least. Do you know the way back?"

The three exchanged equivocal glances.

"Not exactly," Stefan admitted, "it's just—it's hard to breathe in here is all. And this place messes with your mind."

"That's for sure," Marius agreed, "let's look for the way out before we get sucked into some enchantment."

"I think I can find the way," Stefan said, peering down the hall. Did the dark elf escape?"

Lance nodded. "There's no chance of finding him in here. We'll follow you towards the entrance; if we come upon him, I suggest we try to take him back with us for the king."

"Agreed," Stefan confirmed, "let's go."

* * *

She looked like she did in the painting; dark and regal. I cannot deny that I regarded her with fear and hesitation, and every bit of confidence I had before drained from me suddenly as I faced her for the first time. I cleared my throat.

Severa sat tall and straight in her chair, and her eyes were locked on to me as if she had expected my arrival. In spite of the distance between us, she was a looming figure, ready to strike at any moment. Her laughter was soft and effeminate, and she stood as I stepped forward. There was a mirror in her grasp, her fingers wrapped securely around the silver handle.

"I watched you come," she spoke. If Pandora's voice was the ringing of bells, then Severa's was the echo of clashing swords. Severa brandished the mirror in her hand, indicting it's looking power. "And I know why you are here."

Standing there alone, I wished the bird hadn't vanished. "I've come to ask that you surrender Adrian."

The Enchantress stood, a tight smile adorning her face. "Look at you," she said softly, her voice ringing through the hall with an effortless energy, "how brave you are to come here. When I saw you last, you were a slave girl dreaming of going to the royal ball."

"A slave girl you tried to murder," I replied tightly.

"I've murdered many," Severa said, moving towards me slowly, casually. "It's what I have to do to bring back the old world and ways."

"You cannot do good through wickedness. The whole kingdom wants to see your end. If you do not surrender Adrian, it will be me who brings it upon you." I spoke sincerely. I was not confident, but I was also not leaving without Adrian.

Severa shrugged. "You can continue on this way forever, for all I care. But soon you will change. You have already begun to change for what you did to your stepmother."

I felt my blood to turn to ice.

"Letting her die for your own liberation…," she continued, "your heart will soon turn black. I know you've felt this by now."

"I have," I admitted, adrenaline beating up my veins, "and I've dreamt of it. But it was you who killed her, Severa. And isn't your heart _already_ black?"

Severa slammed her mirror to the floor, and the sudden crashing sent shards of glass skidding across the polished stone. In a flash she was standing before me, her eyes wide with rage. "A fairy's heart can never grow black, it can only grow stronger. You are a mortal, and one who has come from nothing. I would send you back there."

The room transformed around me, and suddenly I was no longer there. I looked around; I was in my old attic bedroom. Severa was gone.

"What on earth-" I began to say, and as I did so my bedroom door flew open, and there stood Didi and Anna.

"Mary!" Anna squealed, rushing to my side. Her sudden grip upon my arm was tight, and then Didi's grasp upon my other arm was painful.

"You've really done it this time," Didi snarled in my ear. Before I could respond, the girls were pulling me down the familiar rickety stairs.

_Wait, this has happened before. This is a memory. _

It would've been foolish to resist their pull, like I had done so many years ago. I knew they were taking me to the parlor where my step mother awaited. And there, I would be accused of taking gold from Lorna's purse to buy a jeweled necklace that one of the twins planted in my apron pocket. It had been the perfect set up, and I paid dearly for their treachery—one of a contrived nature, for Didi was rewarded the very necklace she bought with the stolen money. And I was rewarded with a switch across my arms.

How could I be living through this again? It felt like only yesterday that the welts had finally subsided. Lorna always maintained an extra thin switch, hopeful to break skin. This particular memory was one of the worst I held on to. The feeling of Didi and Anna's hands upon me was undeniable; could it be an illusion yet?

"Let go of me!" I shrieked as we reached the bottom of the stairs. If I could break free, I'd run from the house. And they could run after me for as long as they wanted.

"You are a greedy pig," Didi sneered as she pulled me into the hallway, "taking from my mother when we have so little…"

"I didn't do it," I responded fitfully, trying desperately to relieve myself of her grip. Was she always this strong? Or was I just weak?

"Yes you did!" Anna chirped, "We have the evidence! A necklace hidden within your cinder-stained apron! Mother has seen it already!"

They dragged me into the parlor where Lorna waited in her high-backed chair, regarding me callously. The twins dumped me at her feet. I only meant to catch my breath.

"So," Lorna began calmly, "it has come to this."

I looked up at her; her face was just as I remembered. Not a hair out of place, nor the hint of a smile. Her dark eyes bore into mine with great scrutiny. Why bother saying anything now? My pleading had met deaf ears before; this time would be no different.

"You believe just because your parents died we should take pity on you; that the chores you're assigned are too much, that your market duties are unfair. What thanks have you given me for keeping you here? You could be on the streets—hungry, cold, and alone. Is that what you prefer?" Her tone was authoritative, and of the highest degree of manipulation.

Years ago, I had begged her to believe me. That I was thankful for living in my father's house, that the chores I was more than capable of doing, and that I was no thief. She had hit me with the switch regardless. So this time I just stared into her cruel eyes in disbelief that she was here before me, very much undead.

"Answer me, girl," she hissed, her knuckles white as she clutched the arms of her chair.

It had to be an enchantment. Severa was angry, and at play. I knew very well all that was left of Lorna were my memories, and that her body lay cold and still in some grave beneath the ground. When I had lived this before, I was weak. I envisioned no future for myself, and therefore I begged for any and every chance of kindness I could get, but received none. Lorna never loved me and never could—but why had that been so hard to accept? Being Belle had allowed me to break away from Mary's sadness and insecurities, and had given me the chance to assess my own strength and abilities. And worth.

And now I am Mary once again and I ask myself: _do these scars matter anymore?_

Someone had once told me that they didn't.

I got to my feet. Lorna's scowl deepened ever so slightly, as she was careful not to reveal the full depth of her rage.

She too stood. "Do you confess?"

"I have a lot to confess," I spoke. "I confess that you made me afraid. That you hurt me in ways I thought I could never defeat. Every time you took away from me, I let it happen."

Her eyes narrowed as I continued, "I confess that for years I regretted your very existence, and despised your daughters. I felt unloved and alone because of you. I confess that when given the promise for freedom, it came with a heavy bargain. I traded your life for it."

"What the devil are you talking about?" she interjected sharply.

"You died, Lorna. But I didn't kill you. It was the Enchantress. She is listening to us now. And I confess to her that once all this is over, I will forget you both. I will move on with my life and claim the happiness I deserve, and you will still be dead and she will be forgotten."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. For the first time in my life I witnessed Lorna's confusion. And so I took the opportunity to finish what I had to say. "But my one true confession is this: I am sorry. I've been sorry the entire time that I agreed to let you die. No amount of pain you ever caused me could be remedied by your death. The only true liberation in this world is love. I want to love and to be loved by everyone. I have the power in me to forgive and to heal, and I intend to use it. I am sorry that your heart was so burdened that you lived a life of treachery and never experienced what it means to love—and that is a tragedy. I used to feel hate towards you but now I only feel sadness. I can only hope wherever you are now, that you are different. But if you can hear me, know that none of it matters anymore."

"You are insane," she said, her voice growing deep, "to fool yourself this way. What a pity! What a pity you are! You cannot forget me; I am your mother. You have nothing and no one."

I shook my head. "You lose, Severa," I addressed the Enchantress directly, for I knew she was there, "I cannot be frightened anymore and I do not bare any guilt. This illusion is a folly."

Lorna's face contorted grotesquely. Her eyes turned all black and her skin began to bubble and twist. She opened her mouth and flies began to swarm out of it, filling the room. I turned from her, looking for the way out.

I ran to the door and seized the handle. It wouldn't budge. I twisted it desperately as flies began to fill the room, darkening it with their swarms. I kicked the door, even ran my shoulder into it. It would not open. I held my breath as my vision was completely taken over by the flies—and soon I was on my knees, covering my face. I then braced myself for a nasty end.

It did not come. The commotion around me suddenly vanished, and so I opened my eyes.

"I just wanted to have a little fun before things take a turn for the worse," Severa said.

We were just as before; the remains of her broken looking glass scattered at my feet. Before I had time to respond, Severa seized me by my neck and lifted me above her. Her eyes bore deeply into mine as I struggled to breathe. "My sister created a mortal who can break curses. I should have foreseen it, given her nature," Severa's voice shook as she spoke, "But you have no power over me. I only keep you alive out of curiosity." She let me stumble to the ground.

"Adrian told me that it was his curse that bound you to him," I said breathlessly, "and yes, I did break it. He can be no use to you now, as he was your only chance. I'm warning you that your destruction will be two-fold if you do not let him go. The king will attack, we will take Adrian, and you will be forgotten."

Severa laughed deeply. "Adrian came here willingly. His prison is of his own design. He will do everything I say because he has given up this fight—oh yes, I believe that all happened when you forgot him. See what it does to people?"

My knees became weak at her words. I didn't know Adrian had given up. "Tell me where he is," I demanded.

"I have a better plan," she answered, "let's find the Necromancer and set him loose in the king's castle! It would take care of two of my problems at once—how inspiring it is, just being around you."

I shook my head. "Your threats are meaningless. Can you not see how futile this battle has become? I have one hundred men behind me, and they are here to reclaim the prince."

Severa paused, her glittering eyes locked onto mine is a satisfying disbelief. Then slowly her lips pulled back over her teeth. "They are looking for a prince?" her voice was soft, delicate and delighted. "How perfect. Because what they will find instead is a beast. Let the carnage begin!"

"No!" I gasped. "Adrian would never turn into the Beast again!"

"Power is a double edged sword," Severa replied with a shrug. Breaking his curse did not prevent this from happening, it only led to a crueler fate, as you made the mortal mistake of giving into love. It is what will be your downfall."

From the corner of my eye, I perceived images as they appeared within the glass shards on the floor.

"Look at them," Severa hissed softly, "the looking glass always shows the truth."

I could see the Beast in the broken pieces of mirror. Quickly, I kneeled down in front of the shards to peer into them. The scene played before me like a nightmare: the king's men rushed into the fortress and were greeted by the Beast, and a fight between them ensued. Men were being mortally wounded as they attacked him with swords and arrows, and the Beast was clearly fighting to the death as he unleashed his fury onto them.

"I won't believe it," I said shakily, "it cannot happen!"

"It will," The Enchantress insisted.

The images then began to change. The colors warped together and new shapes appeared; the Beast and the king's men vanished and were replaced by the familiar image of the portrait that had hung in one of Blackhill's corridors. The painting of Severa and Pandora together. "Wait," I said quickly, "something's changed…"

Severa's likeness began to decay. Flecks of paint began to fall away from the canvas, leaving only the image of Pandora and lightness. "It's _you_," I realized aloud, "you are fading now."

The Enchantress stepped forward and gazed down upon the shards of broken mirror, a slight crease forming between her eyebrows as she scanned the images. Her mouth hung slightly open as she analyzed the scene. I could almost see the darkness of her thoughts swirling around in her head like a storm. She could not deny what was in front of her.

"Something's happened…" she said faintly, staring down into the glass. I watched her face in anticipation, but I knew I was in a dangerous spot. Any act of rage she inflicted upon me could be the last.

Then she looked directly at me. "It was you! Tell me what you've done!"

I backed quickly away from her as she lunged towards me, and that's when the unthinkable happened. It was Adrian, suddenly there between us, and he was ready to fight her.

"Run, Belle!"

With a swish of his hand, Severa was knocked backwards by an invisible force. I stepped back, frozen in alarm and captivation. Adrian looked over to me, his hand held out to keep Severa back, his eyes pleading.

I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. Suddenly my nose was full of his scent, my fingers grabbing his hair. I kissed him as my eyes flooded with tears. "It's you," I breathed, "_it's really you._"

Adrian looked deep into my eyes, but before he could respond, Severa's cackling sounded throughout the hall, amplified unnaturally.

She approached us slowly, fully recovered from the attack. "I see you've learned something new," she said icily.

Adrian stepped in front of me, facing her. "It was a gift from my mother. She never intended for me to use it, and now I know why. What I am about to do will take every bit of magic I have, and I will never be able to use it again."

"Oh?" she said, feigning fear as she stepped forward, "is this it, then? You are betraying me now?"

Adrian pulled me close to him and whispered in my ear. "Do not be afraid."

I ducked my head as he held out both hands towards the Enchantress, and a blinding light exploded from them. The brilliance hit Severa hard in the middle, and she staggered backwards in surprise. A faint glow rose up around her as she realized what was happening.

"You…" her voice was wheezy and faint now, "you have ruined it."

"No," said Adrian simply, "this is a new beginning, and the dawn of a new age. The world will be without you, Severa, and will be better for it. I will help the world forget you and what you've done."

The Enchantress shrieked. It was the sound of sorrow, and as it filled the hall it shook the walls. I stood behind Adrian, beholding the sight of her destruction in awe. The fairy lost her strength and collapsed upon her throne. Her face was contorted in agony.

"You'll regret it," she gasped, her image fading before us, "one day you will see what you've done and then your heart will turn black too…"

I felt Adrian's hand slip into mine. The Enchantress faded away before us, and all that was left of her were the echoes of her screams.

Adrian turned to me, our hands clasped tightly in one another's.

"Is she really gone?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yes. She is barred from this world forever." He leaned his forehead against mine and breathed in deeply. We held on to each other for a while, afraid to let go.

And then the floor began to tremble, and the walls moaned and creaked. We broke apart, looking around at the hall as it began to shake. And then a million tiny twinkles of light flooded into the room, filling up the vast emptiness above us with a golden brilliance.

"It's them," Adrian said wondrously, "the spirits of Blackhill. Free at last."

I gazed up, dazzled by the sense of happiness they carried with them. I could feel it somehow. One by one they began to blink out in a gleam of radiance, leaving behind music-like notes that trilled delicately through the air. They could've been a million fireflies, but I heard their voices. "Farewell!" I called up to them.

"_Farewell, Master Adrian and Mistress Belle. Farewell…._"

The hall's quaking increased, and we nearly lost our footing. Adrian snapped back into action. "They're bringing down the fortress," he said suddenly, "we must leave here now!" He took me by the hand and together we fled down the stone path.

We passed through the large, empty entrance hall that was now covered in stone dust and loosened rock. The rumbling coming from all around us threatened the ceiling to cave in; we ran faster than ever before.

"All of her enchantments are coming undone at once," Adrian explained breathlessly, "the world will be a different place once we go back."

_You are right about that._

There was a light up ahead; the doorway was open. That's when I abruptly halted, to Adrian's surprise.

"There's something you must know," I said quickly.

Adrian appeared taken aback.

"My name is Mary," I blurted, "it isn't Belle. I made that up because I was running away from a lot of things. When I met you, I thought I would never have to go back to them. But I have, and am ready to start again. I am sorry I lied, and I am sorry I kept so many things from you. I truly am. I regret it. But you helped me become who I am again, and it couldn't have happened any other way. When we leave here, I am leaving Belle behind too."

"It's okay," he said assuredly, "I promise you it doesn't matter. We are together again and that's all I wanted. I swear we will never lose each other after this."

I squeezed his hand. "We won't."

For the first time in a long while, I saw his brilliant smile. And then we continued on through the door and stepped back into the real world, where the king and a hundred men waited for us.

A heavy mist had laid itself upon the rocky landscape. The king's men sat upon their war steeds in silent rows. King Peter stood at the front, dressed in chainmail and armed to fight. As we stumbled out of the wreckage, the stone door sealed itself behind us and for a lingering moment, all was still and silent. We stood there at the head of the army, breathless.

The king dropped to his knee and bowed his head. His men followed suit, dismounting their horses and bowing to their prince. Adrian and I beheld them in silence, the moment suspended with anticipation.

"All hail Prince Adrian, eldest son of the Great King Peter and first heir to the throne!" One of the men called, their voice ringing out through the misty haze.

The king stood and ran over to us, taking Adrian into his arms. "My son!" he exclaimed.

There was no doubt about it. They were the image of each other. Adrian gazed at his father speechlessly.

"Is she gone?" King Peter asked, "the fairy witch?"

"Yes," Adrian confirmed, "she will never have power over us again."

The king beamed at us, his green eyes glittering with pride. He then turned to me. "Thank you," he said, "for bringing him home. This kingdom is forever in your debt."

I suddenly felt faint, as the weight of all the passing events seem to crash over me at once. I looked to Adrian, and he held me close to him. "It is me who is forever in her debt," he said, "and this is the girl I love. I request that we are to be married forthwith."

"Then it is done," King Peter said with a nod of his head, "Our family is restored and growing. We are now stronger than ever." He turned to his army and raised his voice, "Let it be known! My son has returned to us, and for it we shall celebrate for the next fortnight! The entire kingdom will rejoice, and a marriage will take place! These are happy times, my men!"

A hundred cheers rang up into the air, cutting the mist apart with joy. Two horses were brought to us, and we rode back towards the kingdom upon fast moving heels, the king riding by our side and chattering endlessly to Adrian, as if he meant to make up for all the time lost between them. Thus, we left the remains of Severa's fortress behind us to be forgotten, and a new beginning to be embraced before us.

* * *

Stefan made his way through the forest to the river. Having made it out of the land of magic with his companions, he wasted no time carrying out the rest of his plan. Marius and Lance had joined with his father's men to tell the story, but Stefan had refused to go with them. He slipped away quietly, just as intended.

If he was sure all of his strength was lost before, he was more than certain of it now. The world was dizzy around him, and he had to take frequent breaks, resting upon the dampened forest grass in order to keep moving forward, putting as much distance as he could between the kingdom and him. He couldn't spare the time to even say goodbye.

_Just let me die in peace_.

As he walked, he wondered what it would be like to rest in death for once and for all. The forest echoed with the sound of his mother's voice and his little brother's laughter. He remembered all the times he stood next to his father, facing the people of his kingdom with secret resentment. They had believed he would one day lead them, but now he was gone from them forever. And then he met Mary, who had inspired such belief in him that he could be happy somewhere else. He could only hope she would one day forgive him for this. It was far too late to turn back now.

The river was not far ahead, he knew. It would be miles and miles to the sea, but he would try to stay awake for the journey. One foot at a time, he would make it there.

And then he dropped to his knees.

The soft sunlight poured through the trees over him, offering him some warmth in a world that was growing colder with each passing moment.

"_Young prince_," a voice sounded from somewhere in the trees.

Stefan looked up to find the light fairy regarding him serenely.

"Are you an angel?"

She laughed, shaking her golden head. The forest was quiet and still around her, as if time hesitated to move forwards. The world seemed to fade around them.

"I know you've done your best," she said softly. "You were the bravest prince there ever was."

Stefan swallowed hard, wondering how much of this was real. He knew he was less than alive anymore. "I didn't make it," he rasped.

Pandora looked at him sadly, tilting her head in the sunlight. The world seemed to blur around her. Stefan felt his hands go numb.

"This world has been changed by powers from another. Sadly your fate was a part of it," she spoke to him, "and not the only one."

Stefan nodded as her image gleamed before him. He felt hallow, now, as if his body was separating from his soul.

"And once a fate is changed, it's nearly untouchable after that..." she continued. All that was left was her and the sun light. It was the last thing he could perceive.

"…But I'm in the business of granting wishes."

Suddenly, the warmth returned to his body. Stefan could again feel his knees upon the earth again.

Pandora held out a tied scroll to him. "This map belonged to your father; you are aware of where it can lead you. It is your map now. If you can make it to the island, you will find a cure to heal yourself with. I can only grant you two weeks time to make it there."

Stefan gazed at the map before him; the wheels in his head began to turn again. "You mean to say-"

"Yes," Pandora said, "I'm letting you change your fate. This can be your only chance to do it. You _must_ get to the island in time."

His mouth was dry, his body was weak. But he could feel again; the forest grew green and gold around him and the smell of a late mist filled his senses. "I haven't a boat."

"There is one waiting for you up ahead. You must take the river into the next kingdom and make it to a ship there. You will know what to do."

Her words floated through his mind like ghosts. This map would lead him to his father's secret island, the home of magic. It had been a place of bedtime stories for years past, and now it was his only chance of living. How could he make it there in only two weeks time, though? He was doomed anyway. There was no way.

"It isn't possible," he said aloud. "This cannot happen."

Pandora gazed at him sincerely. "You must try, young prince. I believe in you."

He could again feel his hands, and his chest heaved with breath. He was coming to, and quickly.

"Go now," she instructed, "do not waste a second."

Stefan was on his feet; the path before him grew into focus. The river _wasn't_ far away. He could hear the water flowing over the rocks. He glanced to the fairy, her tall figure regal and glowing.

"Thank you," he said incredulously, his feet beginning to move, and then he paused. "Will I ever make it back here?"

Pandora again shook her head, her expression sober. "I don't think so, young prince. Just keep looking forward while you still can."

"I will," he said confidently, clutching the map tightly in his right hand. Adrenaline began to beat through his veins, causing his heart to stir. "Two weeks. I will leave now—I will never forget this!" Stefan moved down the path and the fairy vanished as if she was never there. The sound of the river grew louder and louder in his ears as he ran towards it, and the leaves on the ground beneath him gave way to the soggy terrain.

_I would be lucky to make down the river in even one week_, he thought to himself as a narrow wooden boat upon the shore came into sight. It would be his way out of the kingdom.

"Hey! You there! Stop!" Someone was calling out of the edge of the forest as Stefan pushed the boat into the water. He abruptly turned, taken aback.

Marius came bounding out of the woods, "Have you gone mad? You're going to die!" he yelled. He caught up with Stefan, out of breath from running.

"Where have you come from?" Stefan asked in disbelief.

"I told you," Marius gasped, leaning against the side of the boat, "I'm a healer. And you're my best friend. I'm not letting this go."

Stefan shook his head. "Look what I've got." He held out the map to his friend.

Marius untied it and peered at it closely. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Indeed. I don't have much time to get there, so if you're coming with me, we have to move fast."

Marius laughed as they pushed the boat into waist-deep water and hopped inside. He held out his hand to pull Stefan in. "Time has always been on your side," he said jokingly.

Stefan hurriedly shook loose water off the map and seized a paddle. "Exactly. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. I feel like I could use a real adventure," Marius replied as the river pushed them forward.

The young prince then made his way out of the kingdom forever.

* * *

**The next chapter will conclude this story.**


	41. Final Chapter

Adrian and I were officially married in the king's castle the day after Severa was defeated. It was an affair put on hastily, but Adrian was received by the villagers with great enthusiasm and joy, as was I. In the grand ballroom we respoke our vows to one another in front of hundreds of witnesses. The kingdom was in great excitement over the coming of the lost prince, and furthermore the king's announcement to remain crowned until his death.

_He had said something about losing a map…_

Being together again with Adrian was pure bliss. It had been so long since I'd last seen him happy, and so we held hands whenever we were together. The king's castle wasn't Blackhill, but it was our new home, and this was our new family. In fact, the first thing I did with my title was to summon someone I owed many thanks to—Old Mia. She came from another village with her sister, and I made sure there was a room for the in the palace to live in forever.

Didi and Anna paid a visit to the castle shortly after our marriage, asking for forgiveness of their debts. I granted it to them through an advisor. I would never speak directly to them again.

Adrian found his place in the castle kept him busy; he was being prompted to eventually rule and there was much to learn. He took everything in stride; after all, he was raised to run and protect a castle for ten years. It was what he was good at.

But above all things, we were happy. Now we took walks across the king's castle grounds and paid visits to the village. We spent long afternoons in the grand library and showered each other with gifts and affection. Every day we spent together was a celebration. I knew, without a doubt, that I had become the luckiest girl that had ever lived.

"Is something wrong?" Adrian asked me as we stood upon the balcony, facing the thousands of villagers to greet them as newly-weds. He was dressed in fine clothes adorned with the royal crest, his eyes alight with joy. The air was pleasant and fresh for a late autumn's evening, and the castle had been outfitted with roses at every turn. Suddenly I became aware of the warms tears streaming down my cheeks. I laughed, shaking my head. "No, of course not," I said to him. "Nothing could ever be wrong again."

As we kissed, they cheered. And it was my dream made true.

* * *

The Necromancer had been spotted along the king's road, leaving the village. There were rumors that he had escaped the Enchantress and was heading into the bordering kingdom. Adrian decided to let him go; he was too far beyond our grasp anymore, and he was almost certainly powerless now. His memory would fade with Severa.

Sometimes I caught Adrian standing out on our balcony at night, staring silently into the sky. I had a feeling he sometimes thought about Stefan. I did, too. But we didn't talk about it. It was with a heavy heart that I realized we would never meet again. Pandora had changed our fates so drastically that the only choice I had was to accept it, and be thankful for all that I had.

I wrapped my hands around Adrian and rested my head on his shoulder. "Remember when we wanted to run away?"

He kissed my hand. "I do," he whispered, "and now look at us. There's nothing to run away from anymore."

The dark expanse of sky stretched endlessly before us into the horizon. A cool breeze offered the first hint of winter. And then there was a familiar squawking sound approaching through the dark. Adrian and I watched in surprise as the raven took a landing upon the railing before us.

"It's you!" I exclaimed excitedly, reaching out to touch it. The black bird winked and flew off again, leaving us staring into the sky. Adrian held me close to him as we stood together.

"There's something you should know, now," I said softly to him.

"Hmm?" he glanced at me curiously.

I swallowed, tucking one of his dark locks behind his ear. The news had been threatening to spill out of me for some time, and it was unbearable. "Adrian," I said, "we're going to have a child."

His green eyes fixated onto mine with speechless wonder. And so, we faced the future together with a new kind of bravery.

When you fall in love, you can't breathe. As you inhale, you inhale the essence of the person you love—you inhale their image, take in their scent, their voice, their small gestures and their very laugh. You see them when you close your eyes, and you will lose time throughout the day as you forget about the rest of the world, just thinking about them. They possess you, and you welcome it as forget what it's like to breathe in sober air and breathe out loneliness. They complete you before you realize there was something missing. You wonder to yourself, how could I have gone all this time without knowing this person? Where have they been, what have they been doing? And you vow to hold onto them forever and ever, because suddenly, life without them just doesn't seem worth it. A cheap imitation of what you know could be brilliant, beautiful, meaningful… To love someone is the most important thing you can do. And to love them with every inch of your heart will kill you.

There is no other way to die.

* * *

I spent a long time writing this story—nearly a year. When I first started, I had no idea how I wanted it to go. It's far from perfect, and I wish I could rewrite it all over again and make it one hundred times better… but first and foremost I want to give a heartfelt thank you to those who have stuck with me and my characters through it. I am so proud to have finished. It was because I knew people actually were reading my story that I committed to making it the best it could be. I hope I did not disappoint.

I'm thinking of continuing my presence here as a creative outlet. There are definitely more stories I want to tell—though on a day to day basis, I am a pretty busy person so if I do move forward, than I cannot guarantee how often I will be able to update. I will not write again about Stefan because I never decided if he lived or died—I think that should be up to you. Honestly, I almost killed off every single character at one point of time throughout this process so I think it's a miracle they received such a happy ending. Mary and Adrian live in a universe that I will, however, continue writing about. I love fairy tales and I want to bring them together. In other words, even though my next story will be about someone else, the characters from this story will still exist in their world. I let Lord Terrowin go for this very reason.

If you are interested in reading another story of mine, look for it soon. It will be taking place in the desert.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

P.S.—sorry, I lied. I may actually write about Stefan again. Still unsure! Give me your opinion!

X


	42. To my followers

To all who followed this story:

I have posted the first chapter of the next story I'm working on; it is an Aladdin retelling. If you are interested in following it, this is the url:

s/11710269/1/A-Desert-Tale

This new story will contain some of the same characters of A Girl and a Curse.

I hope that if you are interested, you will enjoy it.

Happy new year.


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